Lit         -Y 

CALIFORNIA 
SAN  D16SO 


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IVAN   TURGENIEFF 


Volume  IV 


A  NOBLEMAN'S 
NEST 


THE  NOVELS  AND  STORIES  OF 
IVAN    TURGENIEFF 


A  NOBLEMAN'S 
NEST  •&&$■:•$•<£«• 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    RUSSIAN    BY 
ISABEL   F.   HAPGOOD 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1903 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
Charles   Scribner's   Sons 


PREFACE 


a  t 


A  Nobleman's  Nest,'  says  Turgenieff,1 
"  was  the  greatest  success  which  ever  fell  to  my 
lot.  Dating  from  the  appearance  of  that  ro- 
mance, I  began  to  reckon  myself  as  belonging  to 
the  ranks  of  the  authors  who  merited  the  attention 
of  the  public." 

In  fact,  it  stands  quite  apart  among  his  writ- 
ings. No  other  of  his  romances  is  permeated  with 
such  bold,  such  ardent  faith;  no  other  can  be  re- 
garded as  so  sincere  a  creation.  Here  we  have 
depicted  the  purest  feminine  type  in  all  Russian 
literature,  after  Pushkin's  Tatyana, — and  in 
some  respects  Liza  is  superior  to  Tatyana.  Here, 
also,  Turgenieff  presents  to  us  that  one  of  his 
heroes  in  whom  he  had  the  most  complete  faith, 
with  whom  he  most  sympathised,  on  whom  he  set 
his  highest  hopes — Lavretzky. 

The  fundamental  ideas  of  the  novel,  according 
to  Russian  critics,  are  as  follows:  The  thirst  for 
enjoyment,  the  thirst  for  personal  happiness,  is 
deceptive ;  it  not  only  does  not  give  happiness,  but 
it  cannot  even  furnish  stable  support  for  life. — 

1In  the  preface  to  the  edition  of  his  romances  issued 

in  1880. 


PREFACE 

The  superficial,  one-sided  education  and  culture 
which  was  in  vogue  at  the  period  indicated,  in  the 
class  of  nobility  to  which  the  acting  personages 
belong,  was  incapable  of  developing  a  full,  active, 
and  moral  character ;  rather  did  it  produce  mental 
"  dislocation,"  as  Lavretzky  himself  expresses  it; 
and  to  counteract  this  dislocation  much  strength 
was  required,  with  but  small  probability  of  suc- 
cess. But  thanks  to  the  mighty  reformation  ef- 
fected by  the  hand  of  the  sovereign  in  Russian 
life, — that  is,  the  Emancipation, — a  new  and  vital 
spirit  took  up  its  abode  in  noble  circles,  and  those 
conditions  vanished  under  which  the  education  of 
a  man  proceeded  at  random  from  his  youth  up. 
The  generation  which  followed  the  Lavretzkys 
was  able  to  develop  regularly,  and  live  a  life 
which  is  full,  social,  and  happy. 

Lavretzky  is  the  complete  expression  of  the 
author's  protest  on  behalf  of  the  good,  the  simple, 
the  meek,  as  opposed  to  the  rapacious,  the  com- 
plexly-passionate, the  strainedly-developed.  In 
fact,  Lavretzky  is,  from  head  to  foot,  a  "  country 
gentleman,"  just  as  Shakespeare's  King  Lear  is, 
"  from  head  to  foot,  a  king."  He  is,  moreover, 
a  thoroughly  Russian  gentleman,  which  was  re- 
garded as  a  fairly  great  rarity  at  the  epoch  of  his 
creation,  and  had  been  a  still  greater  rarity  in 
former  days. 

Contrary  to  all  TurgeniefT's  heroes  who  pre- 
ceded   him,    Lavretzky   has    one    distinguishing 

vi 


PREFACE 

characteristic:  he  is  a  Slavyanophil.  Turgenieff 
himself  calls  him  so.  But  the  type  of  slavyano- 
philism  is  very  mild  and  entirely  foreign  to  the 
narrow,  sectarian  views  which  the  Slavyanophils 
of  Lavretzky's  period  served.  In  order  to  impart 
greater  significance  to  this  slavyanophilism  on 
Lavretzky's  part,  the  author  drew  Panshin,  in 
complete  contrast,  setting  forth  in  him,  according 
to  his  own  assertion,  "  all  the  comic  and  trivial 
sides  of  Westernism." 

Lavretzky  may  be  considered  another  example 
of  Turgenieff's  "  superfluous  men  ";  but  he  does 
not  in  the  least  resemble  his  comrades  in  misfor- 
tune, although  he  shares  their  general  fate.  In 
this  novel  Turgenieff  gives  an  entirely  new  an- 
swer to  the  great  question  of  that  day:  "  What  is 
to  be  done?  "  on  which  theme  Tchernyshevsky,  in 
particular,  wrote  a  "  tendency-novel ';  with  a 
communistic  and  free-love  solution,  and  to  which 
other  Russian  writers  contributed  more  or  less 
revolutionary  suggestions.  Turgenieff's  answer 
was,  in  essence:  Renunciation,  self-control,  for- 
titude. 

Lavretzky  is  a  man  native  to  the  Russian  soil, 
neither  sceptical  nor  argumentative,  like  Riidin. 
Neither  is  he  restless  of  nature  nor  weak-willed, 
like  several  other  heroes  of  Turgenieff.  He  is 
a  simple  Russian  man,  somewhat  distorted  by  an 
absurd  education.  He  is  a  sympathetic  and  dig- 
nified representative  of  the  rural  nobility,  which 

vn 


PREFACE 

TurgeniefF  has  elsewhere  depicted  in  a  ridiculous 
light.  Though  something  of  a  drone,  as  Mikha- 
levitch  calls  him,  and  not  gifted  with  a  brilliant 
aptitude  for  phrase-making,  like  Rudin,  nor  ad- 
dicted to  fruitless  self-analysis,  he  is  a  well- 
balanced  man,  who  would  have  lived  a  peaceful, 
useful,  uneventful  life,  had  fate  decreed  him  a 
suitable  wife,  like  Liza,  for  example; — for  Liza 
was  not  brilliant  in  any  way. 

Turgenieff  was,  evidently,  of  the  opinion  that 
there  was  no  place  or  work  for  such  people  as  La- 
vretzky in  Russia.  But  other  Russian  writers 
have  thought  differently: — Count  L.  N.  Tol- 
stoy's Pierre  Bezukhoff  (in  "  War  and  Peace  ") 
and  Levin  (in  "  Anna  Karenin  ")  are  very  simi- 
lar to  Lavretzky  in  character,  but  they  found 
work  enough  at  home. 

Lavretzky  is  a  genuinely  healthy  native  hero, 
yet  endowed  with  plenty  of  romanticism,  so  that, 
while  he  is  sensitive  to  the  charms  of  music,  and 
of  nature,  and  profoundly  impressionable  on  the 
side  of  love  and  passion,  he  accepts  the  situation 
quite  simply  when  the  catastrophe  comes,  and 
does  not  even  try  to  dissuade  Liza  from  en- 
tering a  monastery.  This  new  solution  to  the 
question,  "What  is  to  be  done?"  under  certain 
circumstances,  evoked  violent  comments  and  op- 
position from  several  of  the  leading  critics  of 
the  period. 

Liza  is,  in  the  highest  degree,  a  sympathetic 

viii 


PREFACE 

and  notable  type  of  the  educated  young  girl  of 
that  time — of  the  provincial  young  gentlewoman. 
As  attractive  as  Pushkin's  Tatyana  (in  "Evgeniy 
Onyegin  ") ,  she  excels  Tatyana  in  her  solid  moral 
character.  A  concentrated  and  somewhat  ecstatic 
creature,  the  influence  of  her  typically  Russian 
nurse  upon  her  confirms  and  strengthens  these 
features  of  her  character.  A  profound  and  note- 
worthy trait  in  the  Russian  character  is  self -chas- 
tisement, that  voluntary  self -martyrdom  to  which 
a  man  condemns  himself  because  of  the  few  joys 
which  he  experiences  in  life,  while,  by  his  nature, 
he  has  every  right  to  happiness.  It  is  always  the 
gifted  people  who  condemn  themselves  thus  to 
penance — people  who  have  endured  every  possible 
sort  of  flouting  by  Fate.  Agafya,  the  nurse,  be- 
longs to  this  category.  Hence,  both  in  her  quality 
of  a  Russian  woman,  and  in  that  of  Agafya's 
pupil,  the  entirely  natural  thing  for  Liza  to  do, 
after  the  catastrophe,  was  to  betake  herself  to  a 
monastery.  She  is  the  victim  of  a  false  concep- 
tion of  duty,  and  of  false,  mystical  religious 
views.  The  strictly  Russian  peculiarity  of  these 
views  consists  in  the  fact,  that  they  are  not  inocu- 
lated by  a  directly  clerical  education,  but  have 
made  their  way  down  to  the  populace  from  the 
spiritual  and  ascetic  teachings  of  ancient  times, 
and  from  the  populace  have  made  their  way  up- 
ward and  infected  the  superior  classes,  and  have 
been  accepted  by  some  people  who  are  more  hon- 

ix 


PREFACE 

ourable  and  kind-hearted  than  keen-witted  as  an 
essential  and  revered  attribute  of  Russian  na- 
tionality. 

Liza  is  the  perfect  Russian  ideal  of  a  woman. 
As  Marianna  (in  "  Virgin  Soil  ")  is  the  most  ra- 
tional feminine  type,  Liza  is  the  most  irrational, 
the  most  completely  consonant  with  the  "  eternal 
feminine  "  conception. 

Panshin  is,  also,  a  vivid  and,  in  his  own  way, 
a  notable  Russian  type:  a  wonderful  representa- 
tive of  that  Russian  semi-culture  and  Russian 
fictitious  development  which  so  amazes  foreign- 
ers. He  is  of  the  same  class  as  Moltchalin  (in 
Griboyedoff's  "  Woe  from  Wit  ")  and  Tchitchi- 
koff  (in  Gogol's  "The  Dead  Souls"),  though 
more  decorous  than  either  of  them,  and  incom- 
parably more  clever  than  the  first-named.  In 
short,  he  is  the  incarnation  of  the  false  side  of  the 
tendency  to  imitate  Western  ideas. 

No  less  typical  than  Liza,  no  less  veracious  as 

a  Russian  feminine  type,   is  Lavretzky's  wife, 

Liza's   exact   opposite;   while   Lemm,   Mikhale- 

vitch,  Liza's  mother,  and  the  latter's  aunt  are 

equally  well  drawn. 

I.  F.  H. 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

(1858) 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 


THE  brilliant,  spring  day  was  inclining 
toward  the  evening,  tiny  rose-tinted  cloud- 
lets hung  high  in  the  heavens,  and  seemed  not  to 
be  floating  past,  but  retreating  into  the  very 
depths  of  the  azure. 

In  front  of  the  open  window  of  a  handsome 
house,  in  one  of  the  outlying  streets  of  O  *  *  * 
the  capital  of  a  Government,  sat  two  women ;  one 
fifty  years  of  age,  the  other  seventy  years  old,  and 
already  aged. 

The  former  was  named  Marya  Dmitrievna 
Kalftin.  Her  husband,  formerly  the  govern- 
mental procurator,  well  known  in  his  day  as  an 
active  official — a  man  of  energetic  and  decided 
character,  splenetic  and  stubborn— had  died  ten 
years  previously.  He  had  received  a  fairly  good 
education,  had  studied  at  the  university,  but,  hav- 
ing been  born  in  a  poverty-stricken  class  of  so- 
ciety, he  had  early  comprehended  the  necessity 
of  opening  up  a  way  for  himself,  and  of  accumu- 
lating money.     Marya  Dmitrievna  had  married 

3 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

him  for  love;  he  was  far  from  uncomely  in  ap- 
pearance, he  was  clever,  and,  when  he  chose,  he 
could  be  very  amiable.  Marya  Dmitrievna  (her 
maiden  name  had  been  PestofF)  had  lost  her  pa- 
rents in  early  childhood,  had  spent  several  years 
in  Moscow,  in  a  government  educational  institute, 
and,  on  returning  thence,  had  lived  fifty  versts 
from  O  *  *  *,  in  her  native  village,  Pokrovskoe, 
with  her  aunt  and  her  elder  brother.  This  bro- 
ther soon  removed  to  Petersburg  on  service,  and 
kept  his  sister  and  his  aunt  on  short  commons, 
until  his  sudden  death  put  an  end  to  his  career. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  inherited  Pokrovskoe,  but  did 
not  live  there  long ;  during  the  second  year  after 
her  marriage  to  Kalitin,  who  succeeded  in  con- 
quering her  heart  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  Po- 
krovskoe was  exchanged  for  another  estate,  much 
more  profitable,  but  ugly  and  without  a  manor- 
house,  and,  at  the  same  time,  Kalitin  acquired  a 
house  in  the  town  of  O  *  *  *,  and  settled  down 
there  permanently  with  his  wife.  A  large  gar- 
den was  attached  to  the  house;  on  one  side,  it 
joined  directly  on  to  the  open  fields,  beyond  the 
town.  Kalitin, — who  greatly  disliked  the  stagna- 
tion of  the  country, — had  evidently  made  up  his 
mind,  that  there  was  no  reason  for  dragging  out 
existence  on  the  estate.  Marya  Dmitrievna,  many 
a  time,  in  her  own  mind  regretted  her  pretty  Po- 
krovskoe, with  its  merry  little  stream,  its  broad 
meadows,  and  verdant  groves;  but  she  opposed 

4 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

ner  husband  in  nothing,  and  worshipped  his  clev- 
erness and  knowledge  of  the  world.  But  when, 
after  fifteen  years  of  married  life,  he  died,  leav- 
ing a  son  and  two  daughters,  Marya  Dmitrievna 
had  become  so  wonted  to  her  house,  and  to  town 
life,  that  she  herself  did  not  wish  to  leave  O  *  *  *. 

In  her  youth,  Marya  Dmitrievna  had  enjoyed 
the  reputation  of  being  a  pretty  blonde,  and  at 
the  age  of  fifty  her  features  were  not  devoid 
of  attraction,  although  they  had  become  some- 
what swollen  and  indefinite  in  outline.  She  was 
more  sentimental  than  kind,  and  even  in  her  ma- 
ture age  she  had  preserved  the  habits  of  her 
school-days ;  she  indulged  herself,  was  easily  irri- 
tated, and  even  wept  when  her  ways  were  inter- 
fered with;  on  the  other  hand,  she  was  very  af- 
fectionate and  amiable,  when  all  her  wishes  were 
complied  with,  and  when  no  one  contradicted 
her.  Her  house  was  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
in  the  town.  Her  fortune  was  very  considerable, 
not  so  much  her  inherited  fortune,  as  that  acquired 
by  her  husband.  Both  her  daughters  lived  with 
her;  her  son  was  being  educated  at  one  of  the 
best  government  institutions  in  Petersburg. 

The  old  woman,  who  was  sitting  by  the  window 
with  Marya  Dmitrievna,  was  that  same  aunt,  her 
father's  sister,  with  whom  she  had  spent  several 
years,  in  days  gone  by,  at  Pokrovskoe.  Her  name 
was  Marfa  Timofeevna  Pestoff\  She  bore  the 
reputation  of  being  eccentric,  had  an  independent 

5 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

character,  told  the  entire  truth  to  every  one, 
straight  in  the  face,  and,  with  the  most  scanty 
resources,  bore  herself  as  though  she  possessed 
thousands.  She  had  not  been  able  to  endure  the 
deceased  Kalitin,  and  as  soon  as  her  niece  married 
him,  she  retired  to  her  tiny  estate,  where  she  lived 
for  ten  whole  years  in  the  hen-house  of  a  peasant. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  was  afraid  of  her.  Black- 
haired  and  brisk-eyed  even  in  her  old  age,  tiny, 
sharp-nosed  Marfa  Timofeevna  walked  quickly, 
held  herself  upright,  and  talked  rapidly  and  in- 
telligibly, in  a  shrill,  ringing  voice.  She  always 
wore  a  white  cap  and  a  white  jacket. 

"  What  art  thou  doing  that  for? — "  she  sud- 
denly inquired  of  Marya  Dmitrievna. — "  What 
art  thou  sighing  about,  my  mother?  " 

"  Because,"  said  the  other. — "  What  wonder- 
fully beautiful  clouds ! M 

"  So,  thou  art  sorry  for  them,  is  that  it? ' 

Marya  Dmitrievna  made  no  reply. 

"  Is  n't  that  Gedeonovsky  coming  yonder?" — 
said  Marfa  Timofeevna,  briskly  moving  her  knit- 
ting-needles (she  was  knitting  a  huge,  motley- 
hued  scarf) .  "  He  might  keep  thee  company  in 
sighing, — or,  if  not,  he  might  tell  us  some  lie  or 
other." 

"  How  harshly  thou  always  speakest  about 
him!    Sergyei  Petrovitch  is  an — estimable  man." 

"  Estimable I'  repeated  the  old  woman  re- 
proachfully. 

6 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  And  how  devoted  he  was  to  my  dead  hus- 
band! "  remarked  Marya  Dmitrievna; — "  to  this 
day,  I  cannot  think  of  it  with  indifference." 

"  I  should  think  not!  he  pulled  him  out  of  the 
mire  by  his  ears," — growled  Marfa  Timofeevna, 
and  her  knitting-needles  moved  still  more  swiftly 
in  her  hands. 

"  He  looks  like  such  a  meek  creature," — she 
began  again, — "  his  head  is  all  grey,  but  no  sooner 
does  he  open  his  mouth,  than  he  lies  or  calumni- 
ates. And  he 's  a  State  Councillor,  to  boot ! 
Well,  he  's  a  priest's  son :  and  there  's  nothing 
more  to  be  said!  " 

"Who  is  without  sin,  aunty?  Of  course,  he 
has  that  weakness.  Sergyei  Petrovitch  received 
no  education, — of  course  he  does  not  speak 
French ;  but,  say  what  you  will,  he  is  an  agreeable 
man." 

"  Yes,  he 's  always  licking  thy  hand.  He 
does  n't  talk  French, — what  a  calamity !  I  'm  not 
strong  on  the  French  '  dialect '  myself.  'T  would 
be  better  if  he  did  not  speak  any  language  at  all : 
then  he  would  n't  lie.  But  there  he  is,  by  the  way 
— speak  of  the  devil, — "  added  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna, glancing  into  the  street. — "  There  he 
strides,  thine  agreeable  man.  What  a  long-legged 
fellow,  just  like  a  stork." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  adjusted  her  curls.  Marfa 
Timofeevna  watched  her  with  a  grin. 

"  Hast  thou  not  a  grey  hair  there,  my  mother? 

7 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Thou  shouldst  scold  thy  Palashka.  Why  does  n't 
she  see  it? " 

"  Oh,  aunty,  you're  always  so  ...  "  muttered 
Marya  Dmitrievna,  with  vexation,  and  drummed 
on  the  arm  of  her  chair  with  her  fingers. 

"  Sergyei  Petrovitch  Gedeonovsky!"  squeaked 
a  red-cheeked  page-lad,  springing  in  through  the 
door. 


8 


II 

There  entered  a  man  of  lofty  stature,  in  a  neat 
coat,  short  trousers,  grey  chamois-skin  gloves,  and 
two  neckties — one  black,  on  top,  and  the  other 
white,  underneath.  Everything  about  him  ex- 
haled decorum  and  propriety,  beginning  with  his 
good-looking  face  and  smoothly  brushed  temple- 
curls,  and  ending  with  his  boots,  which  had  neither 
heels  nor  squeak.  He  bowed  first  to  the  mistress 
of  the  house,  then  to  Marfa  Timofeevna,  and 
slowly  drawing  off  his  gloves,  took  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna's  hand.  After  kissing  it  twice  in  suc- 
cession, with  respect,  he  seated  himself,  without 
haste,  in  an  arm-chair,  and  said  with  a  smile,  as 
he  rubbed  the  very  tips  of  his  fingers : 

"And  is  Elizaveta  Mikhailovna  well?" 
Yes," — replied  Marya  Dmftrievna, — "  she  is 
in  the  garden." 

"  And  Elena  Mikhailovna?  " 

'  Lyenotchka  is  in  the  garden  also.  Is  there 
anything  new?  " 

1  How  could  there  fail  to  be,  ma'am,  how  could 
there  fail  to  be," — returned  the  visitor,  slowlv 
blinking  his  eyes,  and  protruding  his  lips.    "  Hm ! 

9 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

.  .  .  now,  here  's  a  bit  of  news,  if  you  please,  and 
a  very  astounding  bit:  Lavretzky,  Feodor  Iva- 
nitch,  has  arrived." 

"Fedya?" — exclaimed  Marfa  Timofeevna. 
— "  But  come  now,  my  father,  art  not  thou  in- 
venting that? " 

'  Not  in  the  least,  ma'am,  I  saw  him  myself." 

"  Well,  that 's  no  proof." 

'  He  has  recovered  his  health  finely," — went 
on  Gedeonovsky,  pretending  not  to  hear  Marfa 
Timofeevna's  remark: — "he  has  grown  broader 
in  the  shoulders,  and  the  rosy  colour  covers  the 
whole  of  his  cheeks." 

"  He  has  recovered  his  health," — ejaculated 
Marya  Dmitrievna,  with  pauses: — "that  means, 
that  he  had  something  to  recover  from? ' 

"Yes,  ma'am," — returned  Gedeonovsky: — 
"  Any  other  man,  in  his  place,  would  have  been 
ashamed  to  show  himself  in  the  world." 

'  Why  so?  " — interrupted  Marfa  Timofeevna; 
— "  what  nonsense  is  this?  A  man  returns  to  his 
native  place — what  would  you  have  him  do  with 
himself?    And  as  if  he  were  in  any  way  to  blame !" 

"  The  husband  is  always  to  blame,  madam,  I 
venture  to  assure  you,  when  the  wife  behaves 
badly." 

"  Thou  sayest  that,  my  good  sir,  because  thou 
hast  never  been  married  thyself."  Gedeonovsky 
smiled  in  a  constrained  way. 

"  Permit  me  to  inquire,"  he  asked,  after  a  brief 

10 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

pause, — "  for  whom  is   that   very  pretty  scarf 
destined?  " 

Marfa  Timofeevna  cast  a  swift  glance  at  him. 

"  It  is  destined  " — she  retorted, — "for  the  man 
who  never  gossips,  nor  uses  craft,  nor  lies,  if  such 
a  man  exists  in  the  world.  I  know  Fedya  well; 
his  sole  fault  is,  that  he  was  too  indulgent  to  his 
wife.  Well,  he  married  for  love,  and  nothing 
good  ever  comes  of  those  love-marriages," — 
added  the  old  woman,  casting  a  sidelong  glance 
at  Marya  Dmitrievna,  and  rising. — "And  now, 
dear  little  father,  thou  mayest  whet  thy  teeth  on 
whomsoever  thou  wilt,  only  not  on  me ;  I  'm  going 
away,  I  won't  interfere." — And  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna withdrew. 

'  There,  she  is  always  like  that," — said  Marya 
Dmitrievna,  following  her  aunt  with  her  eyes: — 
"Always!" 

'  It 's  her  age!  There  's  no  help  for  it,  ma'am!" 
remarked  Gedeonovsky. — "  There  now,  she  per- 
mitted herself  to  say :  '  the  man  who  does  not  use 
craft.'  But  who  does  n't  use  craft  nowadays? 
it 's  the  spirit  of  the  age.  One  of  my  friends,  a 
very  estimable  person,  and,  I  must  tell  you,  a  man 
of  no  mean  rank,  was  wont  to  say :  that  '  now- 
adays, a  hen  approaches  a  grain  of  corn  craftily 
— she  keeps  watching  her  chance  to  get  to  it  from 
one  side.'  But  when  I  look  at  you,  my  lady,  you 
have  a  truly  angelic  disposition ;  please  to  favour 
me  with  your  snow-white  little  hand." 

11 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Marya  Dmitrievna  smiled  faintly,  and  ex- 
tended her  plump  hand,  with  the  little  finger 
standing  out  apart,  to  Gedeonovsky.  He  applied 
his  lips  to  it,  and  she  moved  her  arm-chair  closer 
to  him,  and  bending  slightly  toward  him,  she 
asked  in  a  low  tone : 

"  So,  you  have  seen  him?  Is  he  really — all 
right,  well,  cheerful?  " 

'  He  is  cheerful,  ma'am;  all  right,  ma'am," 
returned  Gedeonovsky,  in  a  whisper. 

'  And  you  have  not  heard  where  his  wife  is 
now?  " 

"  She  has  recently  been  in  Paris,  ma'am;  now, 
I  hear,  she  has  removed  to  the  kingdom  of  Italy." 

"It  is  dreadful,  really, — Fedya's  position;  I 
do  not  know  how  he  can  endure  it.  Accidents  do 
happen,  with  every  one,  in  fact;  but  he,  one  may 
say,  has  been  advertised  all  over  Europe." 

Gedeonovsky  sighed. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  yes,  ma'am.  Why,  she,  they 
say,  has  struck  up  acquaintance  with  artists,  and 
pianists,  and,  as  they  call  it  in  their  fashion,  with 
lions  and  wild  beasts.  She  has  lost  her  shame, 
completely.  .  ." 

"  It  is  very,  very  sad," — said  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna:— "on  account  of  the  relationship;  for 
you  know,  Sergyei  Petrovitch,  he  's  my  nephew, 
once  removed." 

"  Of  course,  ma'am;  of  course,  ma'am.  How 
could  I  fail  to  be  aware  of  everything  which 

12 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

relates    to    your    family?      Upon    my    word, 
ma'am! " 

"  Will  he  come  to  see  us, — what  do  you  think?  " 
'  We  must  assume  that  he  will,  ma'am ;  but  I 
hear,  that  he  is  going  to  his  country  estate." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  cast  her  eyes  heavenward. 
'  Akh,  Sergyei  Petrovitch,  when  I  think  of  it, 
how  circumspectly  we  women  must  behave !  " 

"  There  are  different  sorts  of  women,  Marya 
Dmitrievna.  Unfortunatelv,  there  are  some  of 
fickle  character  .  .  .  well,  and  it 's  a  question  of 
age,  also ;  then,  again,  the  rules  have  not  been  in- 
culcated in  their  childhood."  (Sergyei  Petro- 
vitch pulled  a  checked  blue  handkerchief  out  of 
his  pocket,  and  began  to  unfold  it). — "Such 
women  exist,  of  course,"  (Sergyei  Petrovitch 
raised  a  corner  of  the  handkerchief  to  his  eyes, 
one  after  the  other), — "  but,  generally  speaking, 
if  we  take  into  consideration,  that  is  .  .  .  There  is 
an  unusual  amount  of  dust  in  town,"  he  con- 
cluded. 

ff  Maman,  maman  " — screamed  a  pretty  little 
girl  of  eleven,  as  she  rushed  into  the  room: — 
"  Vladimir  Nikolaitch  is  coming  to  our  house  on 
horseback!  " 

Marya  Dmitrievna  rose;  Sergyei  Petrovitch 
also  rose  and  bowed: — "  Our  most  humble  salute 
to  Elena  Mikhailovna,"  he  said,  and  withdrawing 
into  a  corner,  out  of  propriety,  he  began  to  blow 
his  long  and  regularly-formed  nose. 

13 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"What  a  splendid  horse  he  has! — "  went  on 
the  little  girl. — "  He  was  at  the  gate  just  now, 
and  told  Liza  and  me,  that  he  would  ride  up  to 
the  porch." 

The  trampling  of  hoofs  became  audible ;  and  a 
stately  horseman,  on  a  fine  brown  steed,  made  his 
appearance  in  the  street,  and  halted  in  front  of 
the  open  window. 


14 


Ill 

"  Good  afternoon,  Marya  Dmitrievna!  " — ex- 
claimed the  horseman,  in  a  ringing,  agreeable 
voice. — "  How  do  you  like  my  new  purchase? ' 

Marya  Dmitrievna  went  to  the  window. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Woldemar!  Akh,  what  a 
magnificent  horse !    From  whom  did  you  buy  it  ? ' 

"  From  the  remount  officer.  .  .  He  asked  a 
high  price,  the  robber!  " 

"  What  is  its  name?  " 

"  Orlando.  .  .  .  But  that 's  a  stupid  name ;  I 
want  to  change  it.  .  .  Eh  bien,  eh  bien,  rnon 
gar  con.  .  .  What  a  turbulent  beast ! '  The  horse 
snorted,  shifted  from  foot  to  foot,  and  tossed  his 
foaming  muzzle. 

"  Pat  him,  Lenotchka,  have  no  fears.  .  . ' 

The  little  girl  stretched  her  hand  out  of  the 
window,  but  Orlando  suddenly  reared  up,  and 
leaped  aside.  The  rider  did  not  lose  control, 
gripped  the  horse  with  his  knees,  gave  him  a  lash 
on  the  neck  with  his  whip,  and,  despite  his  oppo- 
sition, placed  him  once  more  in  front  of  the 
window. 

"Prenez  garde!  prenez  garde!" — Marya  Dmi- 
trievna kept  repeating. 

15 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Pat  him,  Lyenotchka," — returned  the  rider, 
— "  I  will  not  permit  him  to  be  wilful." 

Again  the  little  girl  stretched  forth  her  hand, 
and  timidly  touched  the  quivering  nostrils  of  Or- 
lando, who  trembled  incessantly  and  strained  at 
the  bit. 

'  Bravo !  " — exclaimed  Marya  Dmitrievna, — 
"  and  now,  dismount,  and  come  in." 

The  horseman  turned  his  steed  round  adroitly, 
gave  him  the  spurs,  and  after  dashing  along  the 
street  at  a  brisk  gallop,  rode  into  the  yard.  A 
minute  later,  he  ran  in  through  the  door  of  the 
anteroom  into  the  drawing-room,  flourishing  his 
whip;  at  the  same  moment,  on  the  threshold  of 
another  door,  a  tall,  graceful,  black-haired  girl 
of  nineteen — Marya  Dmitrievna's  eldest  daugh- 
ter, Liza — made  her  appearance. 


16 


IV 

The  young  man,  with  whom  we  have  just  made 
the  reader  acquainted,  was  named  Vladimir  Niko- 
laitch  Panshin.  He  served  in  Petersburg,  as  an 
official  for  special  commissions,  in  the  Ministry 
of  the  Interior.  He  had  come  to  the  town  of 
O  *  *  *  to  execute  a  temporary  governmental 
commission,  and  was  under  the  command  of 
Governor-General  Zonnenberg,  to  whom  he  was 
distantly  related.  Panshin's  father,  a  staff-cap- 
tain of  cavalry  on  the  retired  list,  a  famous  gam- 
bler, a  man  with  a  crumpled  visage  and  a  nervous 
twitching  of  the  lips,  had  passed  his  whole  life 
in  the  society  of  people  of  quality,  had  frequented 
the  English  Clubs  in  both  capitals,  and  bore  the 
reputation  of  an  adroit,  not  very  trustworthy,  but 
charming  and  jolly  fellow.  In  spite  of  his  adroit- 
ness, he  found  himself  almost  constantly  on  the 
very  verge  of  indigence,  and  left  behind  him  to 
his  only  son  a  small  and  impaired  fortune.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  had,  after  his  own  fashion, 
taken  pains  with  his  education:  Vladimir  Niko- 
laitch  spoke  French  capitally,  English  well,  and 
German  badly;  but  it  is  permissible  to  let  fall  a 
German  word  in  certain  circumstances — chiefly 

17 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

humorous, — "  cest  meme  tres  chic"  as  the  Peters- 
burg Parisians  express  themselves.  Vladimir 
Nikolaitch  already  understood,  at  the  age  of  fif- 
teen, how  to  enter  any  drawing-room  whatever 
without  embarrassment,  how  to  move  about  in  it 
agreeably,  and  to  withdraw  at  the  proper  time. 
Panshin's  father  had  procured  for  his  son  many 
influential  connections;  as  he  shuffled  the  cards 
between  two  rubbers,  or  after  a  successful  capture 
of  all  the  tricks,  he  let  slip  no  opportunity  to  drop 
a  nice  little  word  about  his  "  Volodka  "  to  some 
important  personage  who  was  fond  of  social 
games.  On  his  side,  Vladimir  Nikolaitch,  during 
his  stay  in  the  university,  whence  he  emerged  with 
the  rank  of  actual  student,  made  acquaintance 
with  several  young  men  of  quality,  and  became 
a  frequenter  of  the  best  houses.  He  was  received 
gladly  everywhere;  he  was  extremely  good-look- 
ing, easy  in  his  manners,  entertaining,  always  well 
and  ready  for  everything ;  where  it  was  requisite, 
he  was  respectful;  where  it  was  possible,  he  was 
insolent,  a  capital  companion,  un  charmant 
garcon.  The  sacred  realm  opened  out  before  him. 
Panshin  speedily  grasped  the  secret  of  the  science 
of  society;  he  understood  how  to  imbue  himself 
with  genuine  respect  for  its  decrees;  he  under- 
stood how,  with  half -bantering  gravity,  to  busy 
himself  with  nonsense  and  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  regarding  everything  serious  as  trivial; 
he  danced  exquisitely,  he  dressed  in  English  style. 

18 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

In  a  short  time  he  became  renowned  as  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  and  adroit  young  men  in  Peters- 
burg. Panshin  was,  in  reality,  very  adroit, — no 
less  so  than  his  father:  but  he  was,  also,  very 
gifted.  He  could  do  everything :  he  sang  prettily, 
he  drew  dashingly,  he  wrote  verses,  he  acted  very 
far  from  badly  on  the  stage.  He  had  only  just 
passed  his  twenty-eighth  birthday,  but  he  was  al- 
ready Junior  Gentleman  of  the  Emperor's  bed- 
chamber, and  had  a  very  tolerable  rank.  Panshin 
firmly  believed  in  himself,  in  his  brains,  in  his 
penetration;  he  advanced  boldly  and  cheerfully, 
at  full  swing;  his  life  flowed  along  as  on  oil. 
He  was  accustomed  to  please  everybody,  old  and 
young,  and  imagined  that  he  was  a  judge  of  peo- 
ple, especially  of  women:  he  did  know  well  their 
everyday  weaknesses.  As  a  man  not  a  stranger 
to  art,  he  felt  within  him  both  fervour,  and  some 
enthusiasm,  and  rapture,  and  in  consequence  of 
this  he  permitted  himself  various  deviations  from 
the  rules :  he  caroused,  he  picked  up  acquaintance 
with  persons  who  did  not  belong  to  society,  and, 
in  general,  maintained  a  frank  and  simple  de- 
meanour ;  but  in  soul  he  was  cold  and  cunning,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  wildest  carouse  his  clever  little 
brown  eye  was  always  on  guard,  and  watching; 
this  bold,  this  free  young  man  could  never  for- 
get himself  and  get  completely  carried  away.  To 
his  honour  it  must  be  said,  that  he  never  bragged 
of  his  conquests.    He  had  hit  upon  Marya  Dmi- 

19 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

trievna's  house  immediately  on  his  arrival  in 
O  *  *  *,  and  had  promptly  made  himself  en- 
tirely at  home  there.  Marya  Dmitrievna  fairly 
adored  him. 

Panshin  amiably  saluted  all  who  were  in  the 
room,  shook  hands  with  Marya  Dmitrievna  and 
Lizaveta  Mikhailovna,  lightly  tapped  Gedeonov- 
sky  on  the  shoulder,  and  whirling  round  on  his 
heels,  caught  Lyenotchka  by  the  head,  and  kissed 
her  on  the  brow. 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid  to  ride  such  a  vicious 
horse?  " — Marya  Dmitrievna  asked  him. 

"  Good  gracious!  it  is  a  very  peaceable  beast; 
but  1 11  tell  you  what  I  am  afraid  of :  I  'm  afraid 
to  play  preference  with  Sergyei  Petrovitch;  last 
night,  at  the  Byelenitzyns',  he  won  my  last 
farthing." 

Gedeonovsky  laughed  a  shrill  and  servile 
laugh:  he  fawned  on  the  brilliant  young  official 
from  Petersburg,  the  pet  of  the  governor.  In 
his  conversations  with  Marya  Dmitrievna,  he  fre- 
quently alluded  to  Panshin's  remarkable  capaci- 
ties. "  For  why  should  not  I  praise  him?  "  he  ar- 
gued. "  The  young  man  is  making  a  success  in 
the  highest  sphere  of  life,  discharges  his  service 
in  an  exemplary  manner,  and  is  not  the  least  bit 
proud."  Moreover,  even  in  Petersburg  Panshin 
was  considered  an  energetic  official:  he  got 
through  an  immense  amount  of  work ;  he  alluded 
to  it  jestingly,  as  is  befitting  a  fashionable  man 

20 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

who  attaches  no  particular  importance  to  his  la- 
bours, but  he  was  "  an  executor."  The  higher 
officials  love  such  subordinates;  he  never  had  the 
slightest  doubt  himself,  that,  if  he  so  wished,  he 
could  become  a  Minister  in  course  of  time. 

You  are  pleased  to  say  that  I  beat  you  at 
cards," — remarked  Gedeonovsky: — "but  who 
was  it  that  won  twelve  rubles  from  me  last  week? 
and  besides  .  .  .  ." 

:  Villain,  villain,"  Panshin  interrupted  him, 
with  a  caressing  but  almost  disdainful  careless- 
ness, and  without  paying  any  further  attention  to 
him,  he  stepped  up  to  Liza. 

'  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  the  overture  of 
'Oberon'  here,"  he  began: — "  Mme.  Byelenit- 
zyn  was  merely  boasting,  that  she  had  all  the 
classical  music, — as  a  matter  of  fact,  she  has  no- 
thing except  polkas  and  waltzes;  but  I  have  al- 
ready written  to  Moscow,  and  within  a  week  I 
shall  have  that  overture.  By  the  way," — he  con- 
tinued,— "  I  wrote  a  new  romance  yesterday;  the 
words  also  are  my  own.  Would  you  like  to  have 
me  sing  it  for  you?  I  do  not  know  how  it  has 
turned  out;  Mme.  Byelenitzyn  thought  it  ex- 
tremely charming,  but  her  words  signify  no- 
thing,— I  wish  to  know  your  opinion.    However, 

I  think  it  will  be  better  later  on " 

'Why  later  on?" — interposed  Mary  a  Dmi- 
trievna: — "  Why  not  now?  " 

'  I  obey,  ma'am," — said  Panshin,  with  a  cer- 

21 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

tain  bright,  sweet  smile,  which  was  wont  to  appear 
on  his  face,  and  suddenly  to  vanish, — pushed  for- 
ward a  chair  with  his  knee,  seated  himself  at  the 
piano,  and  after  striking  several  chords,  he  began 
to  sing,  clearly  enunciating  the  words,  the  follow- 
ing romance : 

The  moon  floats  high  above  the  earth 

Amid  the  clouds  so  pale; 
But  from  the  crest  of  the  sea  surge  moveth 

A  magic  ray. 
The  sea  of  my  soul  hath  acknowledged  thee 

To  be  its  moon, 
And  't  is  moved, — in  joy  and  in  sorrow, — 

By  thee  alone. 
With  the  anguish  of  love,  the  anguish  of  dumb  aspira- 
tions, 

The  soul  is  full; 
I  suffer  pain.   .   .     But  thou  from  agitation  art  as  free 

As  that  moon. 

Panshin  sang  the  second  couplet  with  peculiar 
expression  and  force;  the  surging  of  the  waves 
could  be  heard  in  the  tempestuous  accompani- 
ment. After  the  words:  "  I  suffer  pain.  .  ."  he 
heaved  a  slight  sigh,  dropped  his  eyes,  and  low- 
ered his  voice, — morendo.  When  he  had  finished, 
Liza  praised  the  motive,  Marya  Dmitrievna  said : 
"It  is  charming;" — while  Gedeonovsky  even 
shouted:  "  Ravishing!  both  poetry  and  harmony 
are  equally  ravishing!  .  .  .        Lyenotchka,  with 

22 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

childish  adoration,  gazed  at  the  singer.  In  a 
word,  the  composition  of  the  youthful  dilettante 
pleased  all  present  extremely;  but  outside  of  the 
door  of  the  drawing-room,  in  the  anteroom,  stood 
an  elderly  man,  who  had  just  arrived,  to  whom, 
judging  by  the  expression  of  his  downcast  face 
and  the  movement  of  his  shoulders,  Panshin's  ro- 
mance, charming  as  it  was,  afforded  no  pleasure. 
After  waiting  a  while,  and  whisking  the  dust 
from  his  boots  with  a  coarse  handkerchief,  this 
man  suddenly  screwed  up  his  eyes,  pressed  his 
lips  together  grimly,  bent  his  back,  which  was  al- 
ready sufficiently  bowed  without  that,  and  slowly 
entered  the  drawing-room. 

'Ah!  Christofor  Feodoritch,  good  after- 
noon !  " — Panshin  was  the  first  of  all  to  exclaim, 
and  sprang  hastily  from  his  seat. — "  I  had  no  sus- 
picion that  you  were  here, — I  could  not,  on  any 
account,  have  made  up  my  mind  to  sing  my  ro- 
mance in  your  presence.  I  know  that  you  do  not 
care  for  frivolous  music." 

'  I  vas  not  listening,"  remarked  the  new- 
comer, in  imperfect  Russian,  and  having  saluted 
all,  he  remained  awkwardly  standing  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room. 

1  Have  you  come,  Monsieur  Lemm," — said 
Mary  a  Dmitrievna, — "  to  give  a  music  lesson  to 
Liza?" 

'  No,  not  to  Lisaf  eta  Mikhailovna,  but  to  Elena 
Mikhailovna." 

23 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"Ah!  Well, — very  good.  Lyenotchka,  go 
upstairs  with  Monsieur  Lemm." 

The  old  man  was  on  the  point  of  following  the 
little  girl,  but  Panshin  stopped  him. 

"  Do  not  go  away  after  the  lesson,  Christofor 
Feodoritch," — he  said: — "  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna 
and  I  will  play  a  Beethoven  sonata  for  four 
hands." 

The  old  man  muttered  something,  but  Panshin 
went  on  in  German,  pronouncing  his  words  badly : 

"  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna  has  shown  me  the 
spiritual  cantata  which  you  presented  to  her — 't  is 
a  very  fine  thing !  Please  do  not  think  that  I  am 
incapable  of  appreciating  serious  music, — quite 
the  contrary :  it  is  sometimes  tiresome,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  very  beneficial." 

The  old  man  crimsoned  to  his  very  ears,  cast  a 
sidelong  glance  at  Liza,  and  hastily  left  the 
room. 

Marya  Dmitrievna  requested  Panshin  to  re- 
peat the  romance;  but  he  declared,  that  he  did 
not  wish  to  wound  the  ears  of  the  learned  Ger- 
man, and  proposed  to  Liza  that  they  should  oc- 
cupy themselves  with  the  Beethoven  sonata. 
Then  Marya  Dmitrievna  sighed,  and  in  her  turn, 
proposed  to  Gedeonovsky  that  he  should  take  a 
stroll  in  the  garden  with  her. — "  I  wish," — she 
said,  "  to  talk  and  take  counsel  with  you  still  fur- 
ther, over  our  poor  Fedya."  Gedeonovsky 
grinned,  bowed,  took  up — with  two  fingers,  his 

24 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

hat,  and  his  gloves  neatly  laid  on  its  brim,  and 
withdrew,  in  company  with  Marya  Dmitrievna. 
Panshin  and  Liza  were  left  alone  in  the  room; 
she  fetched  the  sonata,  and  opened  it ;  both  seated 
themselves,  in  silence,  at  the  piano. — From 
above,  the  faint  sounds  of  scales,  played  by  Lye- 
notchka's  uncertain  little  fingers,  were  wafted  to 
them. 


25 


V 

Christopher-Theodore-Gottlieb  Lemm  was 
born  in  the  year  1786,  in  the  kingdom  of  Sax- 
ony, in  the  town  of  Chemnitz,  of  poor  musicians. 
His  father  played  the  French  horn,  his  mother  the 
harp;  he  himself,  at  the  age  of  five,  was  already 
practising  on  three  different  instruments.  At 
eight  years  of  age  he  became  an  orphan,  and  at 
the  age  of  ten  he  began  to  earn  a  bit  of  bread  for 
himself  by  his  art.  For  a  long  time  he  led  a  wan- 
dering life,  played  everywhere — in  inns,  at  fairs, 
and  at  peasant  weddings  and  at  balls;  at  last,  he 
got  into  an  orchestra,  and  rising  ever  higher  and 
higher,  he  attained  to  the  post  of  director.  He 
was  rather  a  poor  executant;  but  he  possessed  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  music.  At  the  age  of 
twenty-eight  he  removed  to  Russia.  He  was  im- 
ported by  a  great  gentleman,  who  himself  could 
not  endure  music,  but  maintained  an  orchestra  as 
a  matter  of  pride.  Lemm  lived  seven  years  with 
him,  in  the  capacity  of  musical  conductor,  and 
left  him  with  empty  hands;  the  gentleman  was 
ruined,  and  wished  to  give  him  a  note  of  hand, 
but  afterward  refused  him  even  this, — in  a  word, 
did  not  pay  him  a  farthing.    People  advised  him 

26 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

to  leave  the  country:  but  he  was  not  willing  to 
return  home  in  poverty  from  Russia,  from  great 
Russia,  that  gold-mine  of  artists;  he  decided  to 
remain,  and  try  his  luck.  For  the  space  of  twenty 
years  he  did  try  his  luck:  he  sojourned  with  vari- 
ous gentry,  he  lived  in  Moscow  and  in  the  capitals 
of  various  governments,  he  suffered  and  endured 
a  great  deal,  he  learned  to  know  want,  he  floun- 
dered like  a  fish  on  the  ice ;  but  the  idea  of  return- 
ing to  his  native  land  never  abandoned  him  in 
the  midst  of  all  these  calamities  to  which  he  was 
subjected;  it  alone  upheld  him.  But  it  did  not 
suit  Fate  to  render  him  happy  with  this  last  and 
first  joy:  at  the  age  of  fifty,  ill,  prematurely  in- 
firm, he  got  stranded  in  the  town  of  O  *  *  *  and 
there  remained  for  good,  having  finally  lost  all 
hope  of  quitting  the  Russia  which  he  detested, 
and  managing,  after  a  fashion,  to  support  his 
scanty  existence  by  giving  lessons.  Lemm's  ex- 
ternal appearance  did  not  predispose  one  in  his 
favour.  He  was  small  of  stature,  round-shoul- 
dered, with  shoulder-blades  which  projected 
crookedly,  and  a  hollow  chest,  with  huge,  flat 
feet,  with  pale-blue  nails  on  the  stiff,  unbend- 
ing fingers  of  his  sinewy,  red  hands;  he  had  a 
wrinkled  face,  sunken  cheeks,  and  tightly-com- 
pressed lips,  that  he  was  incessantly  moving  as 
though  chewing,  which,  added  to  his  customary 
taciturnity,  produced  an  almost  malevolent  im- 
pression ;  his  grey  hair  hung  in  elf-locks  over  his 

27 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

low  brow;  his  tiny,  motionless  eyes  smouldered 
like  coals  which  had  just  been  extinguished;  he 
walked  heavily,  swaying  his  clumsy  body  from 
side  to  side  at  every  step.  Some  of  his  move- 
ments were  suggestive  of  the  awkward  manner 
in  which  an  owl  in  a  cage  plumes  itself  when  it 
is  conscious  that  it  is  being  watched,  though  it 
itself  hardly  sees  anything  with  its  huge,  yellow, 
timorously  and  dozily  blinking  eyes.  Confirmed, 
inexorable  grief  had  laid  upon  the  poor  musician 
its  ineffaceable  seal,  had  distorted  and  disfigured 
his  already  ill-favoured  figure;  but  for  any  one 
who  knew  enough  not  to  stop  at  first  impres- 
sions, something  unusual  was  visible  in  this  half- 
wrecked  being.  A  worshipper  of  Bach  and 
Handel,  an  expert  in  his  profession,  gifted  with 
a  lively  imagination,  and  with  that  audacity  of 
thought  which  is  accessible  only  to  the  German 
race,  Lemm,  in  course  of  time — who  knows? — 
might  have  entered  the  ranks  of  the  great  com- 
posers of  his  native  land,  if  life  had  led  him 
differently;  but  he  had  not  been  born  under  a 
fortunate  star!  He  had  written  a  great  deal  in 
his  day — and  he  had  not  succeeded  in  seeing  a 
single  one  of  his  compositions  published;  he  had 
not  understood  how  to  set  about  the  matter  in 
the  proper  way,  to  cringe  opportunely,  to  bustle 
at  the  right  moment.  Once,  long,  long  ago,  one 
of  his  admirers  and  friends,  also  a  German  and 
also  poor,  had  published  two  of  his  sonatas  at 

28 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

his  own  expense, — and  the  whole  edition  re- 
mained in  the  cellars  of  the  musical  shops;  they 
had  vanished  dully,  without  leaving  a  trace,  as 
though  some  one  had  flung  them  into  the  river 
by  night.  At  last  Lemm  gave  up  in  despair; 
moreover,  his  years  were  making  themselves  felt : 
he  had  begun  to  grow  rigid,  to  stiffen,  as  his 
fingers  stiffened  also.  Alone,  with  an  aged  cook, 
whom  he  had  taken  from  the  almshouse  (he  had 
never  been  married),  he  lived  on  in  O  *  *  *, 
in  a  tiny  house,  not  far  from  the  Kalitin  residence ; 
he  walked  a  great  deal,  read  the  Bible  and  col- 
lections of  Protestant  psalms,  and  Shakespeare 
in  Schlegel's  translation.  It  was  long  since  he 
had  composed  anything;  but,  evidently,  Liza,  his 
best  pupil,  understood  how  to  arouse  him :  he  had 
written  for  her  the  cantata  to  which  Panshin  had 
alluded.  He  had  taken  the  words  for  this  cantata 
from  the  psalms ;  several  verses  he  had  composed 
himself;  it  was  to  be  sung  by  two  choruses, — the 
chorus  of  the  happy,  and  the  chorus  of  the  un- 
happy; both  became  reconciled,  in  the  end,  and 
sang  together:  "  O  merciful  God,  have  mercy 
upon  us  sinners,  and  purge  out  of  us  by  fire  all 
evil  thoughts  and  earthly  hopes !  " — On  the  title- 
page,  very  carefully  written,  and  even  drawn, 
stood  the  following:  "  Only  the  Just  are  Right. 
A  Spiritual  Cantata.  Composed  and  dedicated 
to  Miss  Elizaveta  Kalitin,  my  beloved  pupil,  by 
her   teacher,    C.   T.   G.   Lemm."     The   words: 

20 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Only  the  Just  are  Right,"  and  "  Elizaveta 
Kalitin,"  were  surrounded  by  rays.  Below  was 
added:  "For  you  alone," — "  Fur  Sie  allein." — 
Therefore  Lemm  had  crimsoned  and  had  cast 
a  sidelong  glance  at  Liza;  it  pained  him  greatly 
when  Panshin  spoke  of  his  cantata  in  his  presence. 


30 


VI 

Panshin  struck  the  opening  chords  of  the  sonata 
loudly,  and  with  decision  (he  was  playing  the 
second  hand),  but  Liza  did  not  begin  her  part. 
He  stopped,  and  looked  at  her.  Liza's  eyes, 
fixed  straight  upon  him,  expressed  displeasure; 
her  lips  were  not  smiling,  her  whole  face  was 
stern,  almost  sad. 

'  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  " — he  inquired. 

"  Why  did  not  you  keep  your  word?  "  said  she. 

— "  I  showed  you  Christofor  Feodoritch's  cantata 

on  condition  that  you  would  not  mention  it  to 

him." 

'  Pardon  me,  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna,  it  was  a 
slip  of  the  tongue." 

You  have  wounded  him — and  me  also.    Now 
he  will  not  trust  me  any  more." 

1  What  would  you  have  me  do,  Lizaveta  Mi- 
khailovna! From  my  earliest  childhood,  I  have 
never  been  able  to  endure  the  sight  of  a  German : 
something  simply  impels  me  to  stir  him  up." 

'  Why  do  you  say  that,  Vladimir  Nikolaitch ! 
This  German  is  a  poor,  solitary,  broken  man — 
and  you  feel  no  pity  for  him?  You  want  to  stir 
him  up?  " 

31 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Panshin  was  disconcerted. 

"  You  are  right,  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna," — he 
said.  "  My  eternal  thoughtlessness  is  responsible 
for  the  whole  thing.  No,  do  not  say  a  word;  I 
know  myself  well.  My  thoughtlessness  has  done 
me  many  an  ill  turn.  Thanks  to  it,  I  have  won 
the  reputation  of  an  egoist." 

Panshin  paused  for  a  moment.  No  matter  how 
he  began  a  conversation,  he  habitually  wound  up 
by  speaking  of  himself,  and  he  did  it  in  a  charm- 
ing, soft,  confidential,  almost  involuntary  way. 

"  And  here  in  your  house," — he  went  on : — 
"  your  mother  likes  me,  of  course, — she  is  so  kind; 
you  .  .  .  however,  I  do  not  know  your  opinion 
of  me;  but  your  aunt,  on  the  contrary,  cannot 
bear  me.  I  must  have  offended  her,  also,  by  some 
thoughtless,  stupid  remark.  For  she  does  not 
like  me,  does  she?  " 

"  No,"  said  Liza,  with  some  hesitation: — "  you 
do  not  please  her." 

Panshin  swept  his  ringers  swiftly  over  the 
keys;  a  barely  perceptible  smile  flitted  across  his 
lips. 

"Well,  and  you?" — he  said: — "Do  I  seem 
an  egoist  to  you  also?  " 

"  I  know  you  very  slightly," — returned  Liza: 
— "  but  I  do  not  consider  you  an  egoist;  on  the 
contrary,  I  ought  to  feel  grateful  to  you.  .  .  .  ' 

"  I  know,  I  know,  what  you  mean  to  say," — 
Panshin  interrupted  her,  and  again  ran  his  fin- 

32 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

gers  over  the  keys : — "  for  the  music,  for  the  books 
which  I  bring  you,  for  the  bad  drawings  with 
which  I  decorate  your  album,  and  so  forth  and  so 
on.  I  can  do  all  that — and  still  be  an  egoist.  I 
venture  to  think,  that  you  are  not  bored  in  my 
company,  and  that  you  do  not  regard  me  as  a 
bad  man,  but  still  you  assume,  that  I — how  in 
the  world  shall  I  express  it  ? — would  not  spare  my 
own  father  or  friend  for  the  sake  of  a  jest." 

"  You  are  heedless  and  forgetful,  like  all 
worldly  people," — said  Liza: — "that  is  all." 

Panshin  frowned  slightly. 

"  Listen,"  he  said: — "  let  us  not  talk  any  more 
about  me ;  let  us  play  our  sonata.  One  thing  only 
I  will  ask  of  you," — he  said,  as  with  his  hand  he 
smoothed  out  the  leaves  of  the  bound  volume 
which  stood  on  the  music-rack: — "  think  what  you 
will  of  me,  call  me  an  egoist  even, — so  be  it!  but 
do  not  call  me  a  worldly  man :  that  appellation  is 
intolerable  to  me.  .  .  .  Anch'io  son  pittore.  I 
also  am  an  artist, — and  I  will  immediately  prove 
it  to  you  in  action.    Let  us  begin." 

"  We  will  begin,  if  you  please," — said  Liza. 

The  first  adagio  went  quite  successfully,  al- 
though Panshin  made  more  than  one  mistake. 
He  played  his  own  compositions  and  those  which 
he  had  practised  very  prettily,  but  he  read  music 
badly.  On  the  other  hand,  the  second  part  of  the 
sonata — a  rather  brisk  allegro — did  not  go  at  all : 
at  the  twentieth  measure,  Panshin,  who  had  got 

33 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

two  measures  behind,  could  hold  out  no  longer, 
and  pushed  back  his  chair  with  a  laugh. 

"No!" — he  exclaimed: — "I  cannot  play  to- 
day; it  is  well  that  Leram  does  not  hear  us:  he 
would  fall  down  in  a  swoon." 

Liza  rose,  shut  the  piano,  and  turned  to 
Panshin. 

"  What  shall  we  do  now?  " — she  asked. 

"  I  recognise  you  in  that  question!  You  can- 
not possibly  sit  with  folded  hands.  Come,  if  you 
like,  let  us  draw,  before  it  has  grown  completely 
dark.  Perhaps  the  other  muse, — the  muse  of 
drawing  ....  what 's  her  name  ?  I  've  forgot- 
ten ....  will  be  more  gracious  to  me.  Where 
is  your  album?  Do  you  remember? — my  land- 
scape there  is  not  finished." 

Liza  went  into  the  next  room  for  her  album, 
and  Panshin,  when  he  was  left  alone,  pulled  a 
batiste  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  polished  his 
nails,  and  gazed  somewhat  askance  at  his  hands. 
They  were  very  handsome  and  white;  on  the 
thumb  of  the  left  hand  he  wore  a  spiral  gold 
ring.  Liza  returned ;  Panshin  seated  himself  near 
the  window,  and  opened  the  album. 

"Aha!  " — he  exclaimed: — "I  see  that  you  have 
begun  to  copy  my  landscape — and  that  is  fine. 
Very  good!  Only  here — give  me  a  pencil — the 
shadows  are  not  put  on  thickly  enough.  .  .  . 
Look." 

And  Panshin,  with  a  bold  sweep,  prolonged 

34 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

several  long  strokes.  He  constantly  drew  one 
and  the  same  landscape:  in  the  foreground  were 
large,  dishevelled  trees,  in  the  distance,  a  meadow, 
and  saw-toothed  mountains  on  the  horizon.  Liza 
looked  over  his  shoulder  at  his  work. 

"  In  drawing,  and  in  life  in  general," — said 
Panshin,  bending  his  head  now  to  the  right,  now 
to  the  left: — "lightness  and  boldness  are  the 
principal  thing." 

At  that  moment,  Lemm  entered  the  room,  and, 
with  a  curt  inclination,  was  on  the  point  of  de- 
parting; but  Panshin  flung  aside  the  album  and 
pencil,  and  barred  his  way. 

"  Whither  are  you  going,  my  dear  Christofor 
Feodoritch  ?  Are  not  you  going  to  stay  and  drink 
tea?" 

'  I  must  go  home," — said  Lemm  in  a  surly 
voice: — "  my  head  aches." 

"Come,  what  nonsense! — stay.  You  and  I 
will  have  a  dispute  over  Shakespeare." 

"  My  head  aches," — repeated  the  old  man. 
'  We  tried  to  play  a  Beethoven  sonata  without 
you," — went  on  Panshin,  amiably  encircling  his 
waist  with  his  arm,  and  smiling  brightly: — 
'  but  we  could  n't  make  it  go  at  all.  Just  ima- 
gine, I  could  n't  play  two  notes  in  succession 
correctly." 

"  You  vould  haf  done  better  to  sing  your  ro- 
mantz," — retorted  Lemm,  pushing  aside  Pan- 
shin's  arm,  and  left  the  room. 

35 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza  ran  after  him.  She  overtook  him  on  the 
steps. 

"  Christofor  Feodoritch,  listen," —  she  said  to 
him  in  German,  as  she  accompanied  him  to  the 
gate,  across  the  close-cropped  green  grass  of  the 
yard: — "I  am  to  blame  toward  you — forgive 
me." 

Lemm  made  no  reply. 

"  I  showed  your  cantata  to  Vladimir  Niko- 
laitch ;  I  was  convinced  that  he  would  appreciate 
it, — and  it  really  did  please  him  greatly." 

Lemm  halted. 

"  Zat  is  nozing," — he  said  in  Russian,  and 
then  added  in  his  native  tongue: — "  but  he  can- 
not understand  anything;  how  is  it  that  you  do 
not  perceive  that  ? — he  is  a  dilettante — and  that 's 
all  there  is  to  it !  " 

"  You  are  unjust  to  him," — returned  Liza: — 
"  he  understands  everything,  and  can  do  nearly 
everything  himself." 

"  Yes,  everything  is  second-class,  light-weight, 
hasty  work.  That  pleases,  and  he  pleases,  and 
he  is  content  with  that — well,  and  bravo!  But  I 
am  not  angry;  that  cantata  and  I — we  are  old 
fools ;  I  am  somewhat  ashamed,  but  that  does  not 
matter." 

"  Forgive  me,  Christofor  Feodoritch," — said 
Liza  again. 

"  It  does  not  mattair,  it  does  not  mattair,"  he 
repeated  again  in  Russian: — "you  are  a  goot 

36 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

girl  .  .  .  but  see  yonder,  some  vun  is  coming  to 
your  house.  Good-bye.  You  are  a  fery  goot 
girl." 

And  Lemm,  with  hasty  strides,  betook  himself 
toward  the  gate,  through  which  was  entering  a 
gentleman  with  whom  he  was  not  acquainted, 
clad  in  a  grey  coat  and  a  broad-brimmed  straw 
hat.  Courteously  saluting  him  (he  bowed  to  all 
newcomers  in  the  town  of  O  *  *  *  ;  he  turned 
away  from  his  acquaintances  on  the  street — that 
was  the  rule  which  he  had  laid  down  for  himself) , 
Lemm  passed  him,  and  disappeared  behind  the 
hedge.  The  stranger  looked  after  him  in  amaze- 
ment, and,  exchanging  a  glance  with  Liza,  ad- 
vanced straight  toward  her. 


37 


VII 

"  You  do  not  recognise  me," — he  said,  removing 
his  hat, — "  but  I  recognise  you,  although  eight 
years  have  passed  since  I  saw  you  last.  You  were 
a  child  then.  I  am  Lavretzky.  Is  your  mother 
at  home?    Can  I  see  her?  " 

"  Mamma  will  be  very  glad," — replied  Liza: — 
"  she  has  heard  of  your  arrival." 

"  Your  name  is  Elizaveta,  I  believe? " — said 
Lavretzky,  as  he  mounted  the  steps  of  the  porch. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  remember  you  well;  you  had  a  face,  at  that 
time,  such  as  one  does  not  forget ;  I  used  to  bring 
you  bonbons  then." 

Liza  blushed  and  thought,  "  What  a  strange 
man  he  is! '  Lavretzky  paused  for  a  minute  in 
the  anteroom.  Liza  entered  the  drawing-room, 
where  Panshin's  voice  and  laughter  were  re- 
sounding; he  had  imparted  some  gossip  of  the 
town  to  Marya  Dmitrievna  and  Gedeonovsky, 
who  had  already  returned  from  the  garden,  and 
was  himself  laughing  loudly  at  what  he  had  nar- 
rated. At  the  name  of  Lavretzky,  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna started  in  utter  trepidation,  turned  pale, 
and  advanced  to  meet  him. 

38 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

'  How  do  you  do,  how  do  you  do,  my  dear 
cousin! " — she  exclaimed,  in  a  drawling  and  al- 
most tearful  voice : — "  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you! ' 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  kind  cousin," — returned 
Lavretzky;  and  shook  her  proffered  hand  in  a 
friendly  way: — "  how  does  the  Lord  show  mercy 
on  you?  " 

"Sit  down,  sit  down,  my  dear  Feodor  Ivanitch. 
Akh,  how  delighted  I  am !  Permit  me,  in  the  first 
place,  to  present  to  you  my  daughter  Liza.  .  . ' 

'  I  have  already  introduced  myself  to  Lizaveta 
Mikhailovna," — Lavretzky  interrupted  her. 

'  Monsieur  Panshin  ....  Sergyei  Petro- 
vitch  Gedeonovsky  ....  But  pray  sit  down!  I 
look  at  you,  and  I  simply  cannot  believe  my  eyes. 
How  is  your  health?  " 

"  As  you  see,  I  am  blooming.  And  you, 
cousin, — I  don't  want  to  cast  the  evil  eye  on  you 
— you  have  not  grown  thin  during  these  eight 
years." 

"  Just  think,  what  a  long  time  it  is  since  we 
saw  each  other," — remarked  Marya  Dmitrievna, 
dreamily. — "  Whence  come  you  now?  Where 
have  you  left  ....  that  is,  I  meant  to  say  " — she 
hastily  caught  herself  up — "  I  meant  to  say,  are 
you  to  be  with  us  long?  " 

"  I  have  just  come  from  Berlin," — returned 
Lavretzky, — "  and  to-morrow  I  set  out  for  my 
estate — probably  to  remain  there  a  long  time." 

'  Of  course,  you  will  live  at  Lavriki  ? ' 

39 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 


a 


No,  not  at  Lavriki,  but  I  have  a  tiny  village 
about  twenty-five  versts  from  here;  I  am  going 
there." 

"  The  village  which  you  inherited  from  Glafira 
Petrovna?  " 

"  The  same." 

"  Good  gracious,  Feodor  Ivanitch !  You  have 
a  splendid  house  at  Lavriki!  " 

Lavretzky  scowled  slightly. 

"  Yes  ....  but  in  that  little  estate  there  is  a 
small  wing ;  and,  for  the  present,  I  need  nothing 
more.  That  place  is  the  most  convenient  for 
me  just  now." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  again  became  so  perturbed, 
that  she  even  straightened  herself  up,  and  flung 
her  hands  apart.  Panshin  came  to  her  assistance, 
and  entered  into  conversation  with  Lavretzky. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  recovered  her  composure, 
leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  only  interjected  a 
word  from  time  to  time;  but,  all  the  while,  she 
gazed  so  compassionately  at  her  visitor,  she  sighed 
so  significantly,  and  shook  her  head  so  mourn- 
fully, that  the  latter,  at  last,  could  endure  it  no 
longer,  and  asked  her,  quite  sharply:  was  she 
well? 

"Thank  God,  yes,"— replied  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna,— "  why? " 

"  Because  it  seemed  to  me  that  you  were  not 
quite  yourself." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  assumed  a  dignified  and 

40 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

somewhat  offended  aspect. — "  If  that 's  the  way 
you  take  it," — she  said  to  herself,—"  I  don't  care 
in  the  least ;  evidently,  my  good  man,  nothing  af- 
fects thee  any  more  than  water  does  a  goose ;  any 
one  else  would  have  pined  away  with  grief,  but 
it  swells  thee  up  more  than  ever."  Mary  a  Dmi- 
trievna  did  not  stand  on  ceremony  with  herself; 
she  expressed  herself  more  elegantly  aloud. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Lavretzky  did  not  resemble 
a  victim  of  fate.  His  rosy-cheeked,  purely-Rus- 
sian face,  with  its  large,  white  brow,  rather  thick 
nose,  and  broad,  regular  lips,  fairly  overflowed 
with  native  health,  with  strong,  durable  force. 
He  was  magnificently  built, — and  his  blond  hair 
curled  all  over  his  head,  like  a  young  man's.  Only 
in  his  eyes,  which  were  blue  and  prominent  and 
fixed,  was  there  to  be  discerned  something  which 
was  not  revery,  nor  yet  weariness,  and  his  voice 
sounded  rather  too  even. 

In  the  meantime,  Pan  shin  had  continued  to 
keep  up  the  conversation.  He  turned  it  on  the 
profits  of  sugar-refining,  concerning  which  two 
French  pamphlets  had  recently  made  their  ap- 
pearance, and  with  calm  modesty  undertook  to 
set  forth  their  contents,  but  without  saying  one 
word  about  them. 

'  Why,  here  's  Fedya ! '  suddenly  rang  out 
Marfa  Timofeevna's  voice  in  the  adjoining  room, 
behind  the  half -closed  door: — "Actually,  Fe- 
dya!'    And  the  old  woman  briskly  entered  the 

41 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

room.  Before  Lavretzky  could  rise  from  his 
chair,  she  clasped  him  in  her  embrace. — "  Come, 
show  thyself,  show  thyself," — she  said,  moving 
back  from  his  face. — "  Eh!  What  a  splendid  fel- 
low thou  art!  Thou  hast  grown  older,  but  hast 
not  grown  in  the  least  less  comely,  really!  But 
why  art  thou  kissing  my  hands, — kiss  me  myself, 
if  my  wrinkled  cheeks  are  not  repulsive  to  thee. 
Can  it  be,  that  thou  didst  not  ask  after  me : '  Well, 
tell  me,  is  aunty  alive  ? '  Why,  thou  wert  born 
into  my  arms,  thou  rogue!  Well,  never  mind 
that;  why  shouldst  thou  have  remembered  me? 
Onlv,  thou  art  a  sensible  fellow,  to  have  come. 
Well,  my  mother," — she  added,  addressing  Ma- 
ry a  Dmitrievna, — "  hast  thou  given  him  any  re- 
freshments? " 

"  I  want  nothing," — said  Lavretzky,  hastily. 

"  Come,  drink  some  tea,  at  least,  my  dear  little 
father.  O  Lord  my  God!  He  has  come,  no 
one  knows  whence,  and  they  don't  give  him  a  cup 
of  tea!  Go,  Liza,  and  see  about  it,  as  quickly  as 
possible.  I  remember  that,  as  a  little  fellow,  he 
was  a  dreadful  glutton,  and  he  must  be  fond  of 
eating  even  now." 

"  My  respects,  Marfa  Timofeevna," — said 
Panshin,  approaching  the  angry  old  woman  from 
one  side,  and  bowing  low. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir," — retorted  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna,— "  I  did  not  notice  you  for  joy. — Thou 
hast  grown  to  resemble  thy  mother,  the  darling," 

42 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

— she  went  on,  turning  again  to  Lavretzky: — 
"  only,  thy  nose  was  and  remains  like  thy  fa- 
ther's.   Well — and  art  thou  to  be  long  with  us? ' 

"  I  am  going  away  to-morrow,  aunty." 

"  Whither?  " 

"  Home,  to  Vasilievskoe." 

"  To-morrow?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  if  it  must  be  to-morrow,  it  must.  God 
be  with  thee, — thou  knowest  best.  Only,  see  here, 
thou  must  come  to  say  farewell." — The  old 
woman  tapped  him  on  the  cheek. — "  I  did  not 
think  I  should  live  to  see  thee;  and  that  not  be- 
cause I  was  preparing  to  die ;  no — I  am  good  for 
another  ten  years,  probably:  all  we  PestofYs  are 
tenacious  of  life;  thy  deceased  grandfather  used 
to  call  us  double-lived;  but  the  Lord  only  knew 
how  much  longer  thou  wouldst  ramble  about 
abroad.  Well,  but  thou  art  a  dashing  fine  fel- 
low, a  fine  fellow;  thou  canst  still  lift  ten  puds 
in  one  hand  as  of  yore,  I  suppose?  Thy  deceased 
father,  excuse  me,  was  cranky  in  some  respects, 
but  he  did  well  when  he  hired  a  Swiss  for  thee; 
thou  rememberest,  how  thou  and  he  had  fist- 
fights;  that's  called  gymnastics,  isn't  it? — But 
why  have  I  been  cackling  thus  ?  I  have  only  been 
keeping  Mr.  Panshin"  (she  never  called  him 
Panshin,  as  she  ought)  "  from  arguing.  But  we 
had  better  drink  tea ;  let  us  go  and  drink  it  on  the 
terrace,  my  dear ;  our  cream — is  not  like  what  you 

43 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

get  in  your  Londons  and  Parises.  Let  us  go,  let 
us  go,  and  do  thou,  Fediusha,  give  me  thy  arm. 
O !  how  thick  it  is !  There  's  no  danger  of  falling 
with  thee." 

All  rose  and  betook  themselves  to  the  terrace, 
with  the  exception  of  Gedeonovsky,  who  quietly 
departed.  During  the  entire  duration  of  La- 
vretzky's  conversation  with  the  mistress  of  the 
house,  Panshin,  and  Marfa  Timofeevna,  he  had 
sat  in  a  corner,  attentively  blinking,  and  sticking 
out  his  lips,  in  childish  curiosity :  he  now  hastened 
to  carry  the  news  about  the  new  visitor  through- 
out the  town. 

On  that  same  day,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, this  is  what  was  going  on  at  Mme.  Kalitin's 
house.  Down-stairs,  on  the  threshold  of  the 
drawing-room, Vladimir  Nikolaitch,  having  seized 
a  favourable  moment,  was  saying  farewell  to 
Liza,  and  telling  her,  as  he  held  her  hand:  "  You 
know  who  it  is  that  attracts  me  hither ;  you  know 
why  I  am  incessantly  coming  to  your  house ;  what 
is  the  use  of  words,  when  everything  is  so  plain? ' 
Liza  made  him  no  reply,  and  without  a  smile,  and 
with  eyebrows  slightly  elevated,  and  blushing,  she 
stared  at  the  floor,  but  did  not  withdraw  her 
hand;  and  up-stairs,  in  Marfa  Timofeevna's 
chamber,  by  the  light  of  the  shrine-lamp,  which 
hung  in  front  of  the  dim,  ancient  holy  pictures, 
Lavretzky  was  sitting  in  an  arm-chair,  with  his 

44 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

elbows  on  his  knees,  and  his  face  in  his  hands ;  the 
old  woman,  standing  before  him,  was  silently 
stroking  his  hair,  from  time  to  time.  He  spent 
more  than  an  hour  with  her,  after  taking  leave 
of  the  mistress  of  the  house;  he  said  almost 
nothing  to  his  kind  old  friend,  and  she  did  not 
interrogate  him.  .  .  And  what  was  the  use  of 
talking,  what  was  there  to  interrogate  him  about  ? 
She  understood  everything  as  it  was,  and  she 
sympathised  with  everything  wherewith  his  heart 
was  full  to  overflowing. 


45 


VIII 

Feodor  Ivanovitch  Lavretzky  (we  must  ask 
the  reader's  permission  to  break  the  thread  of  our 
narrative  for  a  time)  was  descended  from  an  an- 
cient family  of  the  nobility.  The  ancestral  foun- 
der of  the  Lavretzkys  had  come  out  of  Prussia 
during  the  princely  reign  of  Vasily  the  Blind, 
and  had  been  granted  two  hundred  quarters1  of 
land,  on  Byezhetsk  Heights.  Many  of  his  de- 
scendants were  members  of  various  branches  of 
the  public  service,  and  sat  under  princes  and  dis- 
tinguished personages  in  distant  governorships, 
but  not  one  of  them  ever  rose  above  the  rank  of 
table-decker  at  the  Court  of  the  Tzars,  or  ac- 
quired any  considerable  fortune.  The  most  opu- 
lent and  noteworthy  of  all  the  Lavretzkys  had 
been  Feodor  Ivanitch's  great-grandfather,  An- 
drei, a  harsh,  insolent,  clever,  and  crafty  man. 
Down  to  the  day  of  which  we  are  speaking,  the 
fame  of  his  arbitrary  violence,  of  his  fiendish  dis- 
position, his  mad  lavishness,  and  unquenchable 
thirst  had  not  died  out.  He  had  been  very  stout 
and   lofty   of   stature,    swarthy   of   visage,    and 

'An  ancient  land-measure,  varying  in  different  localities;  the 
average  "  quarter  "  being  about  thirty  by  forty  fathoms. — Trans- 
lator. 

4G 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

beardless;  he  lisped,  and  appeared  to  be  sleepy; 
but  the  more  softly  he  spoke,  the  more  did  every 
one  around  him  tremble.  He  obtained  for  him- 
self a  wife  to  match.  Goggle-eyed,  with  hawk- 
like nose,  with  a  round,  sallow  face,  a  gipsy  by 
birth,  quick-tempered  and  revengeful,  she  was  not 
a  whit  behind  her  husband,  who  almost  starved 
her  to  death,  and  whom  she  did  not  survive,  al- 
though she  was  eternally  snarling  at  him. 

Andrei's  son,  Piotr,  Feodor's  grandfather,  did 
not  resemble  his  father :  he  was  a  simple  squire  of 
the  steppes,  decidedly  hare-brained,  a  swash- 
buckler and  dawdler,  rough  but  not  malicious, 
hospitable,  and  fond  of  dogs.  He  was  more  than 
thirty  years  old  when  he  inherited  from  his  fa- 
ther two  thousand  souls  in  capital  order;  but  he 
speedily  dispersed  them,  sold  a  part  of  his  es- 
tate, and  spoiled  his  house-servants.  Petty  little 
people,  acquaintances  and  non-acquaintances, 
crawled  from  all  sides,  like  black-beetles,  to  his 
spacious,  warm,  and  slovenly  mansion;  all  these 
ate  whatever  came  to  hand,  but  ate  their  fill, 
drank  themselves  drunk,  and  carried  off  what 
they  could,  lauding  and  magnifying  the  amiable 
host;  and  the  host,  when  he  was  not  in  a  good 
humour,  also  magnified  his  guests — as  drones  and 
blackguards — but  he  was  bored  without  them. 
Piotr  Andreitch's  wife  was  a  meek  person:  he 
took  her  from  a  neighbouring  family,  at  his  fa- 
ther's choice  and  command;  her  name  was  Anna 

47 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Pavlovna.  She  never  interfered  with  anything, 
received  visitors  cordially,  and  was  fond  of  going 
out  herself,  although  powdering  her  hair,  accord- 
ing to  her  own  words,  was  death  to  her.  They  put 
a  felt  hood  on  your  head,  she  was  wont  to  narrate 
in  her  old  age,  combed  your  hair  all  up  on  top, 
smeared  it  with  tallow,  sprinkled  on  flour,  stuck 
in  iron  pins, — and  you  could  not  wash  yourself 
afterward ;  but  to  go  visiting  without  powder  was 
impossible — people  would  take  offence; — tor- 
ture ! — She  was  fond  of  driving  after  trotters,  was 
ready  to  play  cards  from  morning  until  night, 
and  always  covered  up  with  her  hand  the  few 
farthings  of  winnings  set  down  to  her  when  her 
husband  approached  the  card-table ;  but  she  gave 
her  dowry  and  all  her  money  to  him,  and  required 
no  accounting  for  its  use.  She  bore  him  two 
children:  a  son,  Ivan,  Feodor's  father,  and  a 
daughter,  Glafira. 

Ivan  was  not  brought  up  at  home,  but  at  the 
house  of  a  wealthy  old  aunt,  Princess  Kuben- 
skoy;  she  had  designated  him  as  her  heir  (had 
it  not  been  for  that,  his  father  would  not  have 
let  him  go)  ;  she  dressed  him  like  a  doll,  hired 
every  sort  of  teacher  for  him,  provided  him  with 
a  governor,  a  Frenchman,  a  former  abbe,  a  disci- 
ple of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  a  certain  M. 
Courtin  de  Vaucelles,  an  adroit  and  subtle  in- 
triguer,— the  most  fine  fleur  of  the  emigration, 
as  she  expressed  it, — and  ended  by  marrying  this 

48 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  fine-fleur  "  when  she  was  almost  seventy  years 
of  age ;  she  transferred  to  his  name  her  entire  for- 
tune, and  soon  afterward,  rouged,  scented  with 
amber,  a  la  Richelieu,,  surrounded  by  small  ne- 
groes, slender-legged  dogs,  and  screeching  par- 
rots, she  died  on  a  crooked  little  couch  of  the  time 
of  Louis  XV,  with  an  enamelled  snuff-box,  the 
work  of  Petitot,  in  her  hands, — and  died,  deserted 
by  her  husband:  the  sneaking  M.  Courtin  had 
preferred  to  retire  to  Paris  with  her  money. 

Ivan  was  only  in  his  twentieth  year  when  this 
blow  (we  are  speaking  of  the  Princess's  marriage, 
not  of  her  death)  descended  upon  him;  he  did  not 
wish  to  remain  in  his  aunt's  house,  where  from  a 
wealthy  heir  he  had  suddenly  been  converted  into 
a  parasite ;  in  Petersburg,  the  society  in  which  he 
had  been  reared,  was  closed  to  him ;  to  service,  be- 
ginning with  the  lowest  ranks,  difficult  and  dark, 
he  felt  repugnance  (all  this  took  place  at  the 
very  beginning  of  the  reign  of  the  Emperor 
Alexander).  He  was  compelled,  perforce,  to 
return  to  the  country,  to  his  father.  Dirty,  poor, 
tattered  did  his  native  nest  appear  to  him:  the 
dulness  and  soot  of  existence  on  the  steppes  of- 
fended him  at  every  step ;  he  was  tormented  with 
boredom;  on  the  other  hand,  every  one  in  the 
house,  with  the  exception  of  his  mother,  looked 
upon  him  with  unfriendly  eyes.  His  father  did  not 
like  his  habits  of  the  capital ;  his  dress-suits,  frilled 
shirts,  books,  his  flute,  his  cleanliness,  in  which, 

49 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  without  reason,  they  scented  his  fastidious- 
ness; he  was  constantly  complaining  and  grum- 
bling at  his  son. — "  Nothing  here  suits  him,"  he 
was  wont  to  say:  "  at  table  he  is  dainty,  he  does 
not  eat,  he  cannot  endure  the  odour  of  the  ser- 
vants, the  stifling  atmosphere;  the  sight  of 
drunken  men  disturbs  him,  and  you  must  n't  dare 
to  fight  in  his  presence,  either;  he  will  not  enter 
government  service :  he 's  frail  in  health,  for- 
sooth ;  phew,  what  an  effeminate  creature !  And 
all  because  Voltaire  sticks  in  his  head! ' 

The  old  man  cherished  a  particular  dislike  for 
Voltaire,  and  for  the  "  fanatic '  Diderot,  al- 
though he  had  never  read  a  single  line  of  their 
writings:  reading  was  not  in  his  line.  Piotr  An- 
dreitch  was  not  mistaken:  Diderot  and  Voltaire 
really  were  sticking  in  his  son's  head,  and  not  they 
only, — but  Rousseau  and  Raynal  and  Helvetius, 
and  many  other  writers  of  the  same  sort,  were 
sticking  in  his  head, — but  only  in  his  head.  Ivan 
Petrovitch's  former  tutor,  the  retired  abbe  and 
encyclopedist,  had  contented  himself  with  pour- 
ing the  whole  philosophy  of  the  XVIII  century 
into  his  pupil  in  a  mass,  and  the  latter  went  about 
brimful  of  it;  it  gained  lodgment  within  him, 
without  mingling  with  his  blood,  without  penetra- 
ting into  his  soul,  without  making  itself  felt  as  a 
firm  conviction.  .  .  And  could  convictions  be  de- 
manded of  a  young  fellow  of  fifty  years  ago, 
when  we  have  not  even  yet  grown  up  to  them? 

50 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

He  also  embarrassed  the  visitors  to  his  father's 
house :  he  loathed  them,  and  thev  feared  him ;  and 
with  his  sister,  Glafira,  who  was  twelve  years 
older  than  he,  he  did  not  get  on  at  all. 

This  Glafira  was  a  strange  being;  homely, 
hunchbacked,  gaunt,  with  stern,  staring  eyes  and 
thin,  tightly  compressed  lips;  in  face,  voice,  and 
quick,  angular  movements,  she  recalled  her  grand- 
mother, the  gipsy,  the  wife  of  Andrei.  Per- 
sistent, fond  of  power,  she  would  not  even  hear 
of  marriage.  The  return  of  Ivan  Petrovitch  did 
not  please  her ;  so  long  as  the  Princess  Kubenskoy 
had  kept  him  with  her,  she  had  cherished  the  hope 
of  receiving  at  least  half  of  the  parental  estate: 
she  resembled  her  grandmother  in  her  avarice. 
Moreover,  Glafira  was  envious  of  her  brother: 
he  was  so  cultivated,  he  spoke  French  so  well,  with 
a  Parisian  accent,  while  she  was  scarcely  able  to 
say :  "  bon  jour"  and  "comment  vous  portez 
vous? J  To  tell  the  truth,  her  parents  did  not  un- 
derstand any  French  at  all, — but  that  did  not 
render  it  any  the  more  pleasant  for  her. 

Ivan  Petrovitch  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
himself  for  tedium  and  melancholy;  he  spent 
nearly  a  year  in  the  country,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
like  ten  years. — Only  with  his  mother  did  he  re- 
lieve his  heart,  and  he  was  wont  to  sit,  by  the  hour, 
in  her  low-ceiled  rooms,  listening  to  the  simple 
prattle  of  the  good  woman,  and  gorging  himself 
with   preserves.      It   so   happened,   that   among 

51 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Anna  Pavlovna's  maids  there  was  one  very  pretty 
girl,  with  clear,  gentle  eyes  and  delicate  features, 
named  Malanya,  both  clever  and  modest.  She 
pleased  Ivan  Petrovitch  at  first  sight,  and  he  fell 
in  love  with  her:  he  fell  in  love  with  her  timid 
walk,  her  shy  answers,  her  soft  voice,  her  gentle 
smile ;  with  every  passing  day  she  seemed  to  him 
more  charming.  And  she  became  attached  to  Ivan 
Petrovitch  with  her  whole  soul,  as  only  Russian 
girls  can  become  attached — and  gave  herself  to 
him. 

In  the  country  manor-house  of  a  landed  pro- 
prietor, no  secret  can  be  kept  long:  every  one 
soon  knew  of  the  bond  between  the  young  master 
and  Malanya;  the  tidings  of  this  connection  at 
last  reached  Piotr  Andreitch  himself.  At  any 
other  time,  he  would,  in  all  probability,  have  paid 
no  heed  to  such  an  insignificant  matter;  but  he 
had  long  been  in  a  rage  with  his  son,  and  rejoiced 
at  the  opportunity  to  put  to  shame  the  Peters- 
burg philosopher  and  dandy.  Tumult,  shrieks, 
and  uproar  arose :  Malanya  was  locked  up  in  the 
lumber-room;  Ivan  Petrovitch  was  summoned  to 
his  parent.  Anna  Pavlovna  also  hastened  up  at 
the  outcry.  She  made  an  effort  to  pacify  her  hus- 
band, but  Piotr  Andreitch  no  longer  listened  to 
anything.  Like  a  vulture  he  pounced  upon  his 
son,  upbraided  him  with  immorality,  with  im- 
piety, with  hypocrisy;  incidentally,  he  vented  on 
him    all    his    accumulated    wrath    against    the 

52 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Princess  Kubenskoy,  and  overwhelmed  him  with 
insulting  epithets.  At  first,  Ivan  Petrovitch  held 
his  peace,  and  stood  firm,  but  when  his  father  took 
it  into  his  head  to  threaten  him  with  a  disgrace- 
ful chastisement,  he  lost  patience.  "  The  fa- 
natic Diderot  has  come  on  the  stage  again,"  he 
thought, — "  so  just  wait,  I'll  put  him  in  action; 
I  '11  astonish  you  all." 

Thereupon,  in  a  quiet  voice,  although  trem- 
bling in  every  limb,  Ivan  Petrovitch  announced 
to  his  father,  that  there  was  no  necessity  for  up- 
braiding him  with  immorality,  that,  although  he 
did  not  intend  to  justify  his  fault,  yet  he  was 
ready  to  rectify  it,  and  that  the  more  willingly  be- 
cause he  felt  himself  superior  to  all  prejudices 
— in  short,  he  was  ready  to  marry  Malanya.  By 
uttering  these  words,  Ivan  Petrovitch  did,  un- 
doubtedly, attain  his  object:  he  astounded  Piotr 
Andreitch  to  such  a  degree,  that  the  latter  stared 
with  all  his  eyes,  and  was  rendered  dumb  for  a 
moment;  but  he  immediately  recovered  himself, 
and  just  as  he  was,  clad  in  a  short  coat  lined  with 
squirrel-skin,  and  with  slippers  on  his  bare  feet, 
he  flung  himself  with  clenched  fists  upon  Ivan 
Petrovitch,  who  that  day,  as  though  expressly, 
had  his  hair  dressed  a  la  Titus,  and  had  donned  a 
new  blue  English  dress-coat,  boots  with  tassels, 
and  dandified  chamois  trousers,  skin-tight.  Anna 
Pavlovna  shrieked  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  but  her  son  ran 

53 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

through  the  whole  house,  sprang  out  into  the 
yard,  rushed  into  the  vegetable  garden,  across  the 
garden,  flew  out  upon  the  highway,  and  kept  run- 
ning, without  looking  behind  him,  until,  at  last, 
he  ceased  to  hear  behind  him  the  heavy  tramp  of 
his  father's  footsteps,  and  his  violent,  broken 
shouts.  .  .  .  '  Stop,  rascal!  "  he  roared, — "  stop! 
I  '11  curse  thee!  " 

Ivan  Petrovitch  hid  himself  in  the  house  of  a 
neighbouring  peasant  proprietor,  while  Piotr  An- 
dreitch  returned  home  utterly  exhausted  and 
perspiring,  and  announcing  almost  before  he  had 
recovered  his  breath,  that  he  would  deprive  his 
son  of  his  blessing  and  his  heritage,  ordered  all 
his  idiotic  books  to  be  burned,  and  the  maid  Ma- 
lanya  to  be  sent  forthwith  to  a  distant  village. 
Kind  people  turned  up,  who  sought  out  Ivan  Pe- 
trovitch and  informed  him  of  all.  Mortified,  en- 
raged, he  vowed  that  he  would  take  revenge  on 
his  father;  and  that  very  night,  lying  in  wait  for 
the  peasant  cart  in  which  Malanya  was  being  car- 
ried off,  he  rescued  her  by  force,  galloped  off  with 
her  to  the  nearest  town,  and  married  her.  He  was 
supplied  with  money  by  a  neighbour,  an  eternally 
intoxicated  and  extremely  good-natured  retired 
naval  officer,  a  passionate  lover  of  every  sort  of 
noble  adventure,  as  he  expressed  it.  On  the  fol- 
lowing day,  Ivan  Petrovitch  wrote  a  caustically- 
cold  and  courteous  letter  to  Piotr  Andreitch,  and 
betook  himself  to  an  estate  where  dwelt  his  sec- 

54 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

ond  cousin,  Dmitry  PestofF,  and  his  sister,  Marf a 
Timofeevna,  already  known  to  the  reader.  He 
told  them  everything,  announced  that  he  intended 
to  go  to  Petersburg  to  seek  a  place,  and  requested 
them  to  give  shelter  to  his  wife,  for  a  time  at 
least.  At  the  word  "  wife  "  he  fell  to  weeping 
bitterly,  and,  despite  his  city  breeding  and  his 
philosophy,  he  prostrated  himself  humbly,  after 
the  fashion  of  a  Russian  beggar,  before  the  feet 
of  his  relatives,  and  even  beat  his  brow  against 
the  floor.  The  PestofFs,  kind  and  compassionate 
people,  gladly  acceded  to  his  request;  he  spent 
three  weeks  with  them,  in  secret  expectation  of  a 
reply  from  his  father;  but  no  reply  came, — and 
none  could  come.  Piotr  Andreitch,  on  learning 
of  his  son's  marriage,  had  taken  to  his  bed,  and 
had  forbidden  the  name  of  Ivan  Petrovitch  to 
be  mentioned  in  his  presence;  but  his  mother, 
without  the  knowledge  of  her  husband,  borrowed 
five  hundred  rubles  from  the  ecclesiastical  super- 
visor of  the  diocese,  and  sent  them  to  him,  to- 
gether with  a  small  holy  picture  for  his  wife  ;*  she 
was  afraid  to  write,  but  she  gave  orders  that  Ivan 
Petrovitch  was  to  be  told,  by  the  lean  peasant  her 
envoy,  who  managed  to  walk  sixty  versts  in 
the  course  of  twenty-four  hours,  that  he  must  not 
grieve  too  much,  that,  God  willing,  everything 
would  come  right,  and  his  father  would  convert 
wrath  into  mercy ;  that  she,  also,  would  have  pre- 

1  That  is  to  say,  she  sent  her  maternal  blessing. — Translator. 

55 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

f erred  a  different  daughter-in-law,  but  that,  evi- 
dently, God  had  so  willed  it,  and  she  sent  her  ma- 
ternal blessing  to  Malanya  Sergyeevna.  The 
lean  little  peasant  received  a  ruble,  requested  per- 
mission to  see  his  new  mistress,  to  whom  he  was 
related  as  co-sponsor  at  a  baptism,  kissed  her 
hand,  and  hastened  off  homeward. 

And  Ivan  Petrovitch  set  off  for  Petersburg 
with  a  light  heart.  The  unknown  future  awaited 
him ;  poverty,  perhaps,  menaced  him,  but  he  had 
bidden  farewell  to  the  life  in  the  country  which 
he  detested,  and,  most  important  of  all,  he  had  not 
betrayed  his  teachers,  he  really  had  "  put  in  ac- 
tion '  and  justified  in  fact  Rousseau,  Diderot, 
and  la  declaration  des  droits  de  Vhomme.  .  A 
sense  of  duty  accomplished,  of  triumph,  of  pride, 
filled  his  soul;  and  his  separation  from  his  wife 
did  not  greatly  alarm  him ;  the  necessity  of  living 
uninterruptedly  with  his  wife  would  have  per- 
turbed him  more.  That  affair  was  ended;  he 
must  take  up  other  affairs.  In  Petersburg,  con- 
trary to  his  own  expectation,  fortune  smiled  on 
him:  Princess  Kubenskoy — whom  Monsieur 
Courtin  had  already  succeeded  in  abandoning, 
but  who  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  dying, — by  way, 
in  some  measure,  of  repairing  the  injury  which 
she  had  done  to  her  nephew,  recommended  him  to 
the  good  graces  of  all  her  friends,  and  gave  him 
five  thousand  rubles, — almost  her  last  farthing, — 
and  a  Lepikovsky  watch  with  his  coat  of  arms 

56 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

in  a  garland  of  cupids.  Three  months  had  not 
elapsed,  when  he  had  already  obtained  a  place  in 
the  Russian  mission  to  London,  and  he  went  to 
sea  on  the  first  English  ship  which  sailed  (there 
was  no  thought  of  steamers  in  those  days).  A 
few  months  later,  he  received  a  letter  from  Pes- 
toff.  The  kind-hearted  squire  congratulated 
Ivan  Petrovitch  on  the  birth  of  a  son,  who  had 
made  his  appearance  in  the  world,  in  the  village 
of  Pokrovskoe,  on  August  20,  1807,  and  was 
named  Feodor,  in  honour  of  the  holy  martyr, 
Feodor  the  Strategist.  Owing  to  her  extreme 
weakness,  Malanya  Sergyeevna  added  only  a  few 
lines;  but  those  few  lines  astonished  Ivan  Petro- 
vitch: he  was  not  aware  that  Marfa  Timofeevna 
had  taught  his  wife  to  read  and  write.  However, 
Ivan  Petrovitch  did  not  give  himself  up  for  long 
to  the  sweet  agitation  of  paternal  emotions:  he 
was  paying  court  to  one  of  the  most  famous 
Phrynes  or  Laises  of  the  period  ( classical  appel- 
lations were  still  flourishing  at  that  epoch)  ;  the 
peace  of  Tilsit  had  just  been  concluded,  and 
everybody  was  making  haste  to  enjoyment,  every- 
thing was  whirling  round  in  a  sort  of  mad  whirl- 
wind. He  had  very  little  money;  but  he  played 
luckily  at  cards,  he  picked  up  acquaintances,  he 
took  part  in  all  the  merrymakings, — in  a  word, 
he  was  dashing  along  under  full  sail. 


57 


IX 

It  was  long  before  old  Lavretzky  could  forgive 
his  son  for  his  marriage;  if,  after  the  lapse  of 
half  a  year,  Ivan  Petrovitch  had  presented  him- 
self in  contrition,  and  had  flung  himself  at  his 
feet,  he  would,  probably,  have  pardoned  him,  af- 
ter first  scolding  him  roundly,  and  administering 
a  few  taps  with  his  crutch,  by  way  of  inspiring 
awe ;  but  Ivan  Petrovitch  was  living  abroad,  and, 
evidently,  cared  not  a  rap. — "  Hold  your  tongue! 
Don't  dare !  "  Piotr  Andreitch  kept  repeating  to 
his  wife,  as  soon  as  she  tried  to  incline  him  to 
mercy:  "  He  ought  to  pray  to  God  for  me  for- 
ever, the  pup,  for  not  having  laid  my  curse  upon 
him ;  my  late  father  would  have  slain  him  with  his 
own  hands,  the  good-for-nothing,  and  he  would 
have  done  right."  At  such  terrible  speeches,  Anna 
Pavlovna  merely  crossed  herself  furtively.  As 
for  Ivan  Petrovitch's  wife,  Piotr  Andreitch,  at 
first,  would  not  allow  her  to  be  mentioned,  and 
even  in  reply  to  a  letter  of  Pestoff,  wherein  the 
latter  alluded  to  his  daughter-in-law,  he  gave  or- 
ders to  say  to  him,  that  he  knew  nothing  whatever 
about  any  daughter-in-law  of  his,  and  that  it  was 
prohibited  by  the  laws  to  harbour  runaway  maids, 

58 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

on  which  point  he  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  warn 
him;  but  later  on,  when  he  learned  of  the  birth 
of  a  grandson,  he  softened,  gave  orders  that  in- 
quiries should  be  made  on  the  sly  concerning  the 
health  of  the  young  mother,  and  sent  her,  also  as 
though  it  did  not  come  from  him,  a  little  money. 
Fedya  had  not  reached  his  first  birthday,  when 
Anna  Pavlovna  was  seized  with  a  fatal  illness.  A 
few  days  before  her  end,  when  she  could  no  longer 
leave  her  bed,  she  declared  to  her  husband,  in  the 
presence  of  the  priest,  that  she  wished  to  see  and 
bid  farewell  to  her  daughter-in-law,  and  to  bestow 
her  blessing  on  her  grandchild.  The  afflicted  old 
man  soothed  her,  and  immediately  sent  his  own 
equipage  for  his  daughter-in-law,  for  the  first 
time  calling  her  Malanya  Sergyeevna.1  She  came 
with  her  son  and  with  Marfa  Timofeevna,  who 
would  not  let  her  go  alone  on  any  terms,  and 
would  not  have  allowed  her  to  be  affronted.  Half 
dead  with  terror,  Malanya  entered  Piotr  Andre- 
itch's  study.  The  nurse  carried  Fedya  after  her. 
Piotr  Andreitch  gazed  at  her  in  silence;  she  ap- 
proached to  kiss  his  hand;  her  quivering  lips 
hardly  met  in  a  noiseless  kiss. 

'  Well,  new-ground,  undried  noblewoman," — 
he  said  at  last: — "  how  do  you  do;  let  us  go  to  the 
mistress." 

He  rose  and  bent  over  Fedya ;  the  baby  smiled, 

1  Serfs  were  not  addressed  with  their  patronymic  by  their 
superiors. — Translator. 

59 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  stretched  out  his  little,  white  arms.  The  old 
man  was  completely  upset. 

"  Okh,"  he  said,—"  thou  orphan!  Thou  hast 
plead  thy  father's  cause  with  me ;  I  will  not  aban- 
don thee,  my  birdling!  " 

As  soon  as  Malanya  Sergyeevna  entered  the 
bedchamber  of  Anna  Pavlovna,  she  knelt  down 
near  the  door.  Anna  Pavlovna  beckoned  her  to 
the  bed,  embraced  her,  blessed  her  son ;  then,  turn- 
ing her  countenance,  ravaged  by  disease,  to  her 
husband,  she  tried  to  speak.  .  . 

"  I  know,  I  know  what  entreaty  thou  desirest 
to  make," — said  Piotr  Andreitch: — "do  not 
worry:  she  shall  stay  with  us,  and  I  will  pardon 
Vanka  for  her  sake." 

Anna  Pavlovna,  with  an  effort,  grasped  her 
husband's  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips.  On 
that  same  evening  she  died. 

Piotr  Andreitch  kept  his  word.  He  informed 
his  son,  that,  for  the  sake  of  his  mother's  dying 
hour,  for  the  sake  of  baby  Feodor,  he  restored  to 
him  his  blessing,  and  would  keep  Malanya  Ser- 
gyeevna in  his  own  house.  Two  rooms  were  set 
apart  for  her  use  in  the  entresol,  he  introduced 
her  to  his  most  respected  visitor,  one-eyed  Briga- 
dier Skuryokhin,  and  to  his  wife;  he  presented 
her  with  two  maids  and  a  page-boy  for  errands. 
Marfa  Timofeevna  bade  her  farewell;  she  de- 
tested Glafira,  and  quarrelled  with  her  thrice  in 
the  course  of  one  day. 

60 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

At  first  the  poor  woman  found  her  situation 
painful  and  awkward ;  but  afterward,  she  learned 
to  bear  things  patiently,  and  became  accustomed 
to  her  father-in-law.  He,  also,  became  accus- 
tomed to  her,  he  even  grew  to  love  her,  although 
he  almost  never  spoke  to  her,  although  in  his  ca- 
resses a  certain  involuntary  disdain  toward  her 
was  perceptible.  Malanya  Sergyeevna  had  most 
of  all  to  endure  from  her  sister-in-law.  Gla- 
fira, already  during  her  mother's  lifetime,  had 
succeeded  in  getting  gradually  the  entire  house 
into  her  hands :  every  one,  beginning  with  her  fa- 
ther, was  subject  to  her;  not  a  lump  of  sugar  was 
given  out  without  her  permission ;  she  would  have 
consented  to  die,  rather  than  to  share  the  power 
with  any  other  mistress  of  the  house!  Her  bro- 
ther's marriage  had  angered  her  even  more  than 
it  had  Piotr  Andreitch:  she  took  it  upon  herself 
to  teach  the  upstart  a  lesson,  and  from  the  very 
first  hour  Malanya  Sergyeevna  became  her  slave. 

And  how  could  she  contend  with  the  self- 
willed,  arrogant  Glafira,  she  who  was  mild,  con- 
stantly agitated,  and  terrified,  and  also  weak  in 
health  ?  Not  a  day  passed,  that  Glafira  did  not  re- 
mind her  of  her  former  position,  did  not  praise 
her  for  not  forgetting  her  place.  Malanya  Ser- 
gyeevna would  gladly  have  reconciled  herself  to 
these  reminders  and  praises,  however  bitter  they 
might  be  ...  .  but  they  took  Fedya  away  from 
her:  that  was  what  broke  her  heart.     Under  the 

61 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

pretext  that  she  was  not  competent  to  take  charge 
of  his  education,  she  was  hardly  permitted  to  see 
him;  Glaffra  took  this  matter  upon  herself;  the 
child  passed  under  her  full  control.  Malanya 
Sergyeevna  began,  out  of  grief,  to  entreat  Ivan 
Petrovitch,  in  her  letters,  to  come  home  as  speed- 
ily as  possible ;  Piotr  Andreitch  himself  wished  to 
see  his  son ;  but  he  merely  wrote  in  reply,  thanking 
his  father  about  his  wife,  and  for  the  money  sent, 
and  promising  to  come  soon, — and  did  not  come. 
The  year  '12  recalled  him,  at  last,  to  his  father- 
land from  abroad. 

On  meeting  again,  for  the  first  time,  after  their 
six  years'  separation,  the  father  and  son  ex- 
changed embraces,  and  did  not  allude,  by  so  much 
as  a  word,  to  their  former  dissensions;  they  were 
not  in  the  mood  for  it  then:  all  Russia  had  risen 
against  the  enemy,  and  both  of  them  felt  that 
Russian  blood  was  flowing  in  their  veins.  Piotr 
Andreitch,  at  his  own  expense,  clothed  an  entire 
regiment  of  soldiers.  But  the  war  came  to  an 
end,  the  danger  passed;  again  Ivan  Petrovitch 
began  to  feel  bored,  again  he  longed  for  far-away 
places,  for  the  world  to  which  he  had  grown  fast, 
and  where  he  felt  himself  at  home.  Malanya  Ser- 
gyeevna  could  not  hold  him  back ;  she  counted  for 
too  little  with  him.  Even  her  hopes  had  not  been 
realised :  her  husband,  also,  deemed  it  much  more 
fitting  that  Fedya's  education  should  be  entrusted 
to  Glafira.     Ivan  Petrovitch's  poor  wife  could 

62 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  withstand  this  blow,  could  not  endure  this  sec- 
ond parting:  without  a  murmur,  in  a  few  days 
she  expired.  During  the  whole  course  of  her  life, 
she  had  never  been  able  to  offer  resistance,  and 
she  did  not  combat  her  malady.  She  could  no 
longer  speak,  the  shadows  of  the  tomb  had  al- 
ready descended  upon  her  face,  but  her  features, 
as  of  old,  expressed  patient  perplexity,  and  the 
steadfast  gentleness  of  submission ;  with  the  same 
dumb  humility  she  gazed  at  Glafira,  and,  like 
Anna  Pavlovna  on  her  deathbed,  she  kissed  the 
hand  of  Piotr  Andreitch,  and  pressed  her  lips  to 
Glafira's  hand  also,  entrusting  to  her,  Glafira, 
her  only  son.  Thus  ended  its  earthly  career  a 
kind  and  gentle  being,  torn,  God  alone  knows 
why,  from  its  native  soil  and  immediately  flung 
aside,  like  an  uprooted  sapling,  with  its  roots 
to  the  sun;  it  faded  away,  it  vanished,  without  a 
trace,  that  being,  and  no  one  mentioned  it.  Those 
who  grieved  for  Malanya  Sergyeevna  were  her 
maid  and  Piotr  Andreitch.  The  old  man  missed 
her  silent  presence.  '  Forgive — farewell,  my  pa- 
tient one!  "  he  whispered,  as  he  made  her  the  part- 
ing reverence  in  church.  He  wept  as  he  threw 
a  handful  of  earth  into  the  grave. 

He  did  not  long  survive  her — nofT  ore  than 
five  years.  In  the  winter  of  1819,  he  died  peace- 
fully in  Moscow,  whither  he  had  removed  with 
Glafira  and  his  grandson,  and  left  orders  in  his 
will,  that  he  should  be  buried  by  the  side  of  Anna 

63 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Pavlovna  and  "  Malasha."  Ivan  Petrovitch  was 
in  Paris  at  the  time,  for  his  pleasure ;  he  had  re- 
signed from  the  service  soon  after  1815.  On 
hearing  of  his  father's  death,  he  decided  to  return 
to  Russia.  It  was  necessary  to  consider  the  or- 
ganisation of  the  estate  .  .  .  and  Fedya,  ac- 
cording to  Glaffra's  letter,  had  reached  the  age 
of  twelve  years,  and  the  time  had  arrived  for  oc- 
cupying himself  seriously  with  the  boy's  educa 
tion. 


64 


X 

Ivan  Petrovitch:  returned  to  Russia  an  Anglo- 
maniac.  His  closely-clipped  hair,  starched  neck- 
cloth, long-skirted,  yellowish-gray  overcoat  with 
a  multitude  of  capes,  his  sour  expression  of  vis- 
age, a  certain  harshness  and  also  indifference  of 
demeanour,  his  manner  of  talking  through  his 
teeth,  a  wooden,  abrupt  laugh,  the  absence  of 
smiles,  a  conversation  exclusively  political  and 
politico-economical,  a  passion  for  bloody  roast 
beef  and  port  wine, — everything  about  him  fairly 
reeked  of  Great  Britain;  he  seemed  thoroughly 
imbued  with  her  spirit.  But — strange  to  say! 
while  he  had  turned  into  an  Anglomaniac,  Ivan 
Petrovitch  had  simultaneously  become  a  patriot; 
at  all  events,  he  called  himself  a  patriot,  although 
he  was  but  badly  acquainted  with  Russia,  was  not 
wedded  to  a  single  Russian  habit,  and  expressed 
himself  queerly  in  Russian:  in  ordinary  conver- 
sation, his  speech  was  clumsy  and  pithless,  studded 
all  over  with  Gallicisms ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  dis- 
cussion touch  upon  important  topics,  than  Ivan 
Petrovitch  instantly  brought  out  such  expressions 
as:  "  to  show  new  proofs  of  self -zeal,"1  "  that  doth 

1  That  is  to  say,  he  used  such  fundamentally  national  words  as  oc- 
cur only  in  the  Old  Church  Slavonic,  well-nigh  untranslatable  here, 
also  employed  upon  occasions  of  ceremony. —  Translator. 

65 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  agree  with  the  nature  of  the  circumstances," 
and  so  forth.  Ivan  Petrovitch  brought  with  him 
several  manuscript  plans  touching  the  organisa- 
tion and  amelioration  of  the  empire;  he  was  ex- 
tremely dissatisfied  with  everything  he  saw, — the 
absence  of  system,  in  particular,  stirred  up  his 
bile.  On  meeting  his  sister,  he  announced  to  her, 
with  his  very  first  words,  that  he  intended  to  in- 
troduce radical  reforms,  that  henceforth  every- 
thing on  his  estate  should  proceed  upon  a  new 
system.  Glaf ira  Petrovna  made  no  reply  to  Ivan 
Petrovitch,  but  merely  set  her  teeth,  and  said  to 
herself:  "  And  what  is  to  become  of  me?  " — But 
when  she  reached  the  country  estate,  in  company 
with  her  brother  and  her  nephew,  she  speedily  re- 
gained her  composure.  In  the  house,  several 
changes  actually  took  place :  the  female  hangers- 
on  and  drones  were  subjected  to  instant  expul- 
sion; among  their  number  two  old  women  suf- 
fered, one  who  was  blind  and  the  other  crippled 
with  paralysis,  also  a  decrepit  Major  of  the 
Otchakoff  period,  who,  on  account  of  his  truly 
astonishing  voracity,  was  fed  on  nothing  but  black 
bread  and  lentils.  A  decree  was  also  issued,  that 
the  former  guests  were  not  to  be  received:  they 
were  superseded  by  a  distant  neighbour,  a  fair- 
haired,  scrofulous  baron,  a  very  well  educated 
and  very  stupid  man.  New  furniture  from  Mos- 
cow made  its  appearance;  cuspidors,  and  bells, 
and  wash-stands  were  introduced  and  they  began 

66 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

to  serve  the  noon  breakfast  differently;  for- 
eign wines  took  the  place  of  vodka  and  home- 
made liqueurs;  new  liveries  were  made  for  the 
servants;  the  motto,  "  in  recto  virtus,"  was  added 
to  the  family  coat  of  arms.  .  .  .  But,  in  reality, 
Glaffra's  power  was  not  diminished:  all  the  dis- 
bursements and  purchases  depended  on  her,  as 
before;  the  imported  Alsatian  valet  made  an  at- 
tempt to  vie  with  her — and  lost  his  place,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  his  master  took  his  side.  So  far 
as  the  management,  the  administration,  of  the 
estates  was  concerned  (Glafira  Petrovna  entered 
into  all  these  matters),  despite  Ivan  Petrovitch's 
frequently  expressed  intention  '  to  infuse  new 
life  into  this  chaos,"  everything  remained  as  of 
yore,  except  that,  here  and  there,  the  quit-rents 
were  augmented,  and  the  husbandry-service  be- 
came more  oppressive,  and  the  peasants  were  for- 
bidden to  apply  directly  to  Ivan  Petrovitch.  The 
patriot  heartily  despised  his  fellow-citizens.  Ivan 
Petrovitch's  system  was  applied,  in  its  full  force, 
to  Fedya  only:  his  education  actually  was  sub- 
jected to  "  radical  reform  "  ;  his  father  had  ex- 
clusive charge  of  it. 


67 


XI 

Up  to  the  time  of  Ivan  Petrovitch's  return  from 
abroad,  Fedya  had  been,  as  we  have  already  said, 
in  the  hands  of  Glafira  Petrovna.  He  was  less 
than  eight  years  of  age  when  his  mother  died,  he 
had  not  seen  her  every  day,  and  he  had  loved  her 
passionately :  the  memory  of  her,  of  her  pale  and 
gentle  face,  her  melancholy  glances  and  timid 
caresses,  had  forever  imprinted  itself  upon  his 
heart;  but  he  dimly  comprehended  her  position 
in  the  house;  he  was  conscious  that  between  him 
and  her  there  existed  a  barrier  which  she  dared 
not  and  could  not  overthrow.  He  shunned  his 
father,  and  Ivan  Petrovitch  never  petted  him; 
his  grandfather  occasionally  stroked  his  head,  and 
permitted  him  to  kiss  his  hand,  but  he  called  him 
and  considered  him  a  little  fool.  After  the  death 
of  Malanya  Sergyeevna,  his  aunt  took  him  in 
hand  definitively.  Fedya  feared  her, — feared  her 
bright,  keen  eyes,  her  sharp  voice;  he  dared  not 
utter  a  sound  in  her  presence;  it  sometimes  hap- 
pened that  when  he  had  merely  fidgeted  on  his 
chair,  she  would  scream  out:  "Where  art  thou 
going?  sit  still! '  On  Sundays,  after  the  Liturgy, 
he  was  permitted  to  play, — that  is  to  say,  he  was 

68 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

given  a  thick  book,  a  mysterious  book,  the  work 
of  a  certain  Maximovitch-Ambodik,  entitled: 
"  Symbols  and  Emblems."  This  book  contained 
about  a  thousand  in  part  very  puzzling  pictures, 
with  equally  puzzling  explanations  in  five  lan- 
guages. Cupid,  with  a  plump,  naked  body, 
played  a  great  part  in  these  pictures.  To  one  of 
them,  labelled  "  Saffron  and  Rainbow,"  was  ap- 
pended the  explanation:  "The  action  of  this  is 
great  .  .  .  ";  opposite  another,  which  represented 
"  A  Heron  flying  with  a  violet  blossom  in  his 
mouth,"  stood  the  inscription:  "  All  of  them  are 
known  unto  thee."  Cupid  and  a  bear  licking  its 
cub  was  designated  as:  "  Little  by  little."  Fedya 
contemplated  these  pictures ;  he  was  familiar  with 
the  most  minute  details  of  them  all ;  some  of  them 
■ — always  the  same  ones — set  him  to  thinking  and 
excited  his  imagination;  he  knew  no  other  diver- 
sions. When  the  time  came  to  teach  him  lan- 
guages and  music,  Glaffra  Petrovna  hired,  for  a 
paltry  sum,  an  elderly  spinster,  a  Swede,  with 
frightened,  hare-like  eyes,  who  spoke  French  and 
German  indifferently,  played  the  piano  after  a 
fashion,  and,  in  addition,  knew  how  to  salt  cu- 
cumbers in  first-class  style.  In  the  society  of  this 
instructress,  of  his  aunt,  and  of  an  old  chamber- 
maid, Vasilievna,  Fedya  passed  four  whole  years. 
He  used  to  sit  in  the  corner  with  his  "  Emblems  " 
— and  sit  .  .  .  and  sit  .  .  .  while  the  low-ceiled 
room  smelled  of  geraniums,   a  solitary  tallow 

69 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

candle  burned  dimly,  a  cricket  chirped  monoto- 
nously, as  though  it  were  bored,  the  little  clock 
ticked  hastily  on  the  wall,  a  mouse  stealthily 
scratched  and  gnawed  behind  the  wall-hangings, 
and  the  three  old  maids,  like  the  Parcse,  moved 
their  knitting-needles  silently  and  swiftly  to  and 
fro,  the  shadows  cast  by  their  hands  now  flitted, 
again  quivered  strangely  in  the  semi -darkness, 
and  strange  thoughts,  also  half -dark,  swarmed  in 
the  child's  head.  No  one  would  have  called  Fedya 
an  interesting  child:  he  was  quite  pallid,  but  fat, 
awkwardly  built,  and  clumsy, — "  a  regular  peas- 
ant," according  to  Glaf  ira  Petrovna's  expression ; 
the  pallor  would  speedily  have  disappeared  from 
his  face  if  he  had  been  permitted  to  go  out  of 
doors  more  frequently.  He  studied  tolerably 
well,  although  he  frequently  idled;  he  never 
wept;  on  the  other  hand,  at  times  a  fierce  obsti- 
nacy came  over  him;  then  no  one  could  do  any- 
thing with  him.  Fedya  loved  none  of  the  per- 
sons around  him Woe  to  the  heart  which 

loves  not  in  its  youth ! 

Thus  did  Ivan  Petrovitch  find  him,  and  with- 
out loss  of  time  he  set  to  work  to  apply  his  sys- 
tem to  him. — "  I  want  to  make  a  man  of  him  first 
of  all,  un  homme" — he  said  to  Glaf  ira  Petrovna : 
— "  and  not  only  a  man,  but  a  Spartan."  Ivan 
Petrovitch  began  the  execution  of  his  intention 
by  dressing  his  son  in  Highland  garb:  the  lad 
of  twelve  began  to  go  about  with  bare  knees, 

70 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  with  a  cock's  feather  in  his  crush-cap;  the 
Swede  was  superseded  by  a  young  Swiss  man, 
who  had  learned  gymnastics  to  perfection ;  music, 
as  an  occupation  unworthy  of  a  man,  was  ban- 
ished forever;  the  natural  sciences,  international 
law,  mathematics,  the  carpenter's  trade  after  the 
advice  of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  and  heraldry, 
for  the  maintenance  of  knightly  sentiments — • 
these  were  the  things  wherewith  the  future 
"  man  "  was  to  occupy  himself;  he  was  waked  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  was  immediately 
drenched  with  cold  water,  and  made  to  run  around 
a  tall  pillar,  at  the  end  of  a  rope;  he  ate  once  a 
day,  one  dish,  rode  on  horseback,  practised  firing 
a  cross-bow;  on  every  convenient  opportunity  he 
exercised  his  strength  of  will,  after  the  model  of 
his  parent,  and  every  evening  he  noted  down  in 
a  special  book  an  account  of  the  past  day  and  his 
impressions;  and  Ivan  Petrovitch,  on  his  side, 
wrote  him  precepts  in  French,  in  which  he  called 
him  mon  filSj,  and  addressed  him  as  vous.  In  Rus- 
sian Fedya  called  his  father  "  thou,"  but  he  dared 
not  sit  down  in  his  presence.  The  "  system  "  be- 
wildered the  boy,  introduced  confusion  into  his 
head,  squeezed  it ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  new 
mode  of  life  acted  beneficially  on  his  health:  at 
first  he  caught  a  fever,  but  soon  recovered,  and 
became  a  fine,  dashing  fellow.  His  father  was 
proud  of  him,  and  called  him,  in  his  strange  jar- 
gon:   "A  son  of  nature,  my  product."     When 

71 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Fedya  reached  the  age  of  sixteen,  Ivan  Petro- 
vitch  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  instil  into  him  be- 
times scorn  for  the  fair  sex, — and  the  youthful 
Spartan,  with  timidity  in  his  soul,  with  the  first 
down  upon  his  lips,  full  of  vigour,  strength,  and 
blood,  attempted  to  appear  indifferent,  cold,  and 
harsh. 

Meanwhile,  time  passed  and  passed.  Ivan  Pe- 
trovitch spent  the  greater  part  of  the  year  at 
Lavriki  (that  was  the  name  of  his  paternal  es- 
tate), and  in  the  winters  he  went  alone  to  Mos- 
cow, stopped  at  an  inn,  diligently  frequented  the 
club,  orated  and  set  forth  his  plans  in  drawing- 
rooms,  and  conducted  himself  more  like  an  An- 
glomaniac,  a  grumbler,  and  a  statesman  than 
ever.  But  the  year  1825  arrived,  and  brought 
with  it  much  woe.1  Ivan  Petrovitch's  intimate 
friends  and  acquaintances  were  subjected  to  se- 
vere trials.  Ivan  Petrovitch  made  haste  to  re- 
treat to  his  country  estate,  and  locked  himself  up 
in  his  house.  Another  year  elapsed,  and  Ivan 
Petrovitch  suddenly  grew  feeble,  weakened,  de- 
clined, his  health  deserted  him.  A  free-thinker 
— he  took  to  going  to  church,  and  to  ordering  ser- 
vices of  prayer;  a  European — he  began  to  steam 
himself  at  the  bath,  to  dine  at  two  o'clock,  to  go  to 
bed  at  nine,  to  fall  asleep  to  the  chatter  of  the 
aged  butler;  a  statesman — he  burned  all  his  plans, 
all  his  correspondence,  trembled  before  the  gov- 

'  At  the  accession  to  the  throne  of  Nicholas  I. — Translator. 

72 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

ernor,  and  fidgeted  in  the  presence  of  the  rural 
chief  of  police;  a  man  with  a  will  of  iron — he 
whimpered  and  complained  when  an  abscess 
broke  out  on  him,  when  he  was  served  with  a  plate 
of  cold  soup.  Glafira  Petrovna  again  reigned 
over  everything  in  the  house ;  again  clerks,  village 
bailiffs,  common  peasants,  began  to  creep  through 
the  back  entrance  to  the  "  ill-tempered  old  hag," 
— that  was  what  the  house-servants  called  her. 
The  change  in  Ivan  Petrovitch  gave  his  son  a 
great  shock ;  he  was  already  in  his  nineteenth  year, 
and  had  begun  to  reason  and  to  free  himself 
from  the  weight  of  the  hand  which  oppressed 
him.  He  had  noticed,  even  before  this,  a  dis- 
crepancy between  his  father's  words  and  deeds, 
between  his  broad  and  liberal  theories  and  his 
harsh,  petty  despotism ;  but  he  had  not  anticipated 
such  a  sudden  break.  The  inveterate  egoist  sud- 
denly revealed  himself  at  full  length.  Young 
Lavretzky  was  getting  ready  to  go  to  Moscow, 
to  prepare  himself  for  the  university, — when  an 
unforeseen,  fresh  calamity  descended  upon  the 
head  of  Ivan  Petrovitch:  he  became  blind,  and 
that  hopelessly,  in  one  day. 

Not  trusting  in  the  skill  of  Russian  physicians, 
he  began  to  take  measures  to  obtain  permission 
to  go  abroad.  It  was  refused.  Then  he  took  his 
son  with  him,  and  for  three  whole  years  he 
roamed  over  Russia,  from  one  doctor  to  another, 
incessantly  journeying  from  town  to  town  and 

73 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

driving  the  physicians,  his  son,  his  servants,  to 
despair  by  his  pusillanimity  and  impatience.  He 
returned  to  Lavriki  a  perfect  rag,  a  tearful  and 
capricious  child.  Bitter  days  ensued,  every  one 
endured  much  at  his  hands.  Ivan  Petrovitch 
calmed  down  only  while  he  was  eating  his  dinner ; 
he  had  never  eaten  so  greedily,  nor  so  much;  all 
the  rest  of  the  time  he  never  gave  himself  or 
others  any  peace.  He  prayed,  grumbled  at  fate, 
railed  at  himself,  reviled  politics,  his  system, — re- 
viled everything  which  he  had  made  his  boast  and 
upon  which  he  had  prided  himself,  everything 
which  he  had  held  up  as  an  example  for  his  son; 
he  insisted  that  he  believed  in  nothing,  and  then 
prayed  again;  he  could  not  bear  to  be  left  alone 
for  a  single  moment,  and  demanded  from  the 
members  of  his  household,  that  they  should  sit 
uninterruptedly,  day  and  night,  beside  his  arm- 
chair, and  amuse  him  with  stories,  which  he  in- 
cessantly interrupted  with  the  exclamation:  "You 
are  inventing  the  whole  of  it — what  trash! ' 

Glaf fra  Petrovna  had  a  particularly  hard  time ; 
he  positively  could  not  get  along  without  her — 
and  to  the  end  she  complied  with  all  the  invalid's 
whims,  although  sometimes  she  could  not  make 
up  her  mind  on  the  instant  to  answer  him,  lest 
the  sound  of  her  voice  should  betray  her  inward 
wrath.  In  this  manner  he  lingered  on  two  years, 
and  died  in  the  beginning  of  May,  when  he  had 
been  carried  out  upon  the  balcony,  in  the  sunshine. 

74 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Glashka,  Glashka!  the  bouillon,  the  bouillon, 

you  old  foo "  lisped  his  stiffening  tongue, 

and  without  finishing  the  last  word,  it  became  si- 
lent forever.  Glafira  Petrovna,  who  had  just 
snatched  the  cup  of  bouillon  from  the  hands  of 
the  butler,  stopped  short,  stared  her  brother  in 
the  face,  crossed  herself  slowly  and  broadly,  and 
withdrew  in  silence ;  and  his  son,  who  was  present, 
said  nothing,  either,  but  leaned  against  the  railing 
of  the  balcony,  and  gazed  for  a  long  time  into  the 
garden,  all  fragrant  and  verdant,  all  glittering 
in  the  rays  of  the  golden  sun  of  spring.  He  was 
twenty-three  years  old;  how  terribly,  how  im- 
perceptibly fast  those  three  and  twenty  years  had 
sped  past ! Life  was  opening  before  him. 


75 


XII 

After  having  buried  his  father,  and  entrusted  to 
the  immutable  Glaf  ira  Petrovna  the  management 
of  the  farming  and  the  oversight  over  the  clerks, 
young  Lavretzky  betook  himself  to  Moscow, 
whither  he  was  drawn  by  an  obscure  but  powerful 
sentiment.  He  recognised  the  defects  of  his  edu- 
cation, and  intended  to  repair  omissions,  so  far 
as  possible.  During  the  last  five  years,  he  had 
read  a  great  deal,  and  had  seen  some  things ;  many 
thoughts  had  been  seething  in  his  brain ;  any  pro- 
fessor might  have  envied  him  some  of  his  know- 
ledge, but,  at  the  same  time,  he  did  not  know 
much  with  which  every  gymnasium  lad  has  long 
been  familiar.  The  Anglomaniac  had  played  his 
son  an  evil  trick;  his  whimsical  education  had 
borne  its  fruits.  For  long  years,  he  had  abased 
himself  before  his  father  without  a  question ;  but 
when,  at  last,  he  had  divined  him,  the  deed  was 
done,  the  habits  had  become  rooted.  He  did  not 
know  how  to  make  acquaintance  with  people:  at 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  with  an  indomitable 
thirst  for  love  in  his  shame-stricken  heart,  he  did 
not  dare  to  look  a  single  woman  in  the  eye.  With 
his  clear,  solid  but  somewhat  heavy  sense,  with 

76 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

his  inclination  to  stubbornness,  contemplation, 
and  indolence,  he  ought,  from  his  earliest  years, 
to  have  been  cast  into  the  whirlpool  of  life,  but 
he  had  been  kept  in  an  artificial  isolation.  .  .  . 
And  now  the  charmed  circle  was  broken,  yet  he 
continued  to  stand  in  one  spot,  locked  up,  tightly 
compressed  in  himself.  It  was  ridiculous,  at  his 
age,  to  don  a  student's  uniform;  but  he  was  not 
afraid  of  ridicule :  his  Spartan  training  had  served 
its  turn  to  this  extent  at  least,  that  it  had  devel- 
oped in  him  scorn  for  other  people's  remarks, — 
and  so,  unabashed,  he  donned  the  uniform  of  a 
student.  He  entered  the  physico-mathematical 
department.  Healthy,  rosj^-cheeked,  with  a  well- 
grown  beard,  taciturn,  he  produced  a  strange  im- 
pression upon  his  comrades ;  they  did  not  suspect 
that  in  this  surly  man,  who  punctually  drove  to 
the  lectures  in  a  roomy  country  sledge  and  pair, 
there  was  concealed  almost  a  child.  He  seemed 
to  them  some  sort  of  wise  pedant;  they  did  not 
need  him  and  did  not  seek  his  society,  he  avoided 
them.  In  the  course  of  the  first  two  years  which 
he  spent  at  the  university,  he  came  into  close  con- 
tact with  only  one  student,  from  whom  he  took 
lessons  in  Latin.  This  student,  Mikhalevitch  by 
name,  an  enthusiast  and  a  poet,  sincerely  loved 
Lavretzky,  and  quite  innocently  became  the  cause 
of  an  important  change  in  his  fate. 

One  day,  at  the  theatre  (Motchaloff  was  then 
at  the  height  of  his  fame,  and  Lavretzky  never 

77 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

missed  a  performance),  he  saw  a  young  girl  in 
a  box  of  the  bel-etage, — and,  although  no  woman 
ever  passed  his  surly  figure  without  causing  his 
heart  to  quiver,  it  never  yet  had  beaten  so  vio- 
lently. With  her  elbows  resting  on  the  velvet 
of  the  box,  the  young  girl  sat  motionless;  alert, 
young  life  sparkled  in  every  feature  of  her  pretty, 
round,  dark-skinned  face;  an  elegant  mind  was 
expressed  in  the  beautiful  eyes  which  gazed  at- 
tentively and  softly  from  beneath  slender  brows, 
in  the  swift  smile  of  her  expressive  lips,  in  the 
very  attitude  of  her  head,  her  arms,  her  neck ;  she 
was  charmingly  dressed.  Beside  her  sat  a  wrin- 
kled, sallow  woman,  forty-five  years  of  age,  with 
a  toothless  smile  on  her  constrainedly-anxious  and 
empty  countenance,  and  in  the  depths  of  the  box 
an  elderly  man  was  visible,  wearing  an  ample 
coat  and  a  tall  neckcloth,  with  an  expression  of 
feeble  stateliness  and  a  certain  obsequious  sus- 
picion in  his  little  eyes,  with  dyed  moustache  and 
side-whiskers,  an  insignificant,  huge  forehead, 
and  furrowed  cheeks, — a  retired  General,  by  all 
the  signs.  Lavretzky  could  not  take  his  eyes  from 
the  young  girl  who  had  startled  him;  all  at  once, 
the  door  of  the  box  opened,  and  Mikhalevitch  en- 
tered. The  appearance  of  that  man,  almost  his 
sole  acquaintance  in  all  Moscow, — his  appearance 
in  the  company  of  the  only  young  girl  who  had 
engrossed  his  whole  attention,  seemed  to  La- 
vretzky strange  and  significant.    As  he  continued 

78 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

to  gaze  at  the  box,  he  noticed  that  all  the  persons 
in  it  treated  Mikhalevitch  like  an  old  friend. 
The  performance  on  the  stage  ceased  to  interest 
Lavretzky;  MotchalofF  himself,  although  that 
evening  he  was  "  in  high  feather,"  did  not  pro- 
duce upon  him  the  customary  impression.  In  one 
very  pathetic  passage,  Lavretzky  involuntarily 
glanced  at  his  beauty :  she  was  bending  her  whole 
body  forward,  her  cheeks  were  aflame ;  under  the 
influence  of  his  persistent  gaze,  her  eyes,  which 
were  riveted  on  the  stage,  turned  slowly,  and 
rested  upon  him.  .  .  .  All  night  long,  those  eyes 
flitted  before  his  vision.  At  last,  the  artificially 
erected  dam  had  given  way:  he  trembled  and 
burned,  and  on  the  following  day  he  betook  him- 
self to  Mikhalevitch.  From  him  he  learned,  that 
the  beauty's  name  was  Varvara  Pavlovna  Ko- 
robyn ;  that  the  old  man  and  woman  who  had  sat 
with  her  in  the  box  were  her  father  and  mother, 
and  that  he  himself,  Mikhalevitch,  had  made 
their  acquaintance  a  year  previously,  during  his 
stay  in  the  suburbs  of  Moscow,  "  on  contract  ser- 
vice '  (as  tutor)  with  Count  N.  The  enthusiast 
expressed  himself  in  the  most  laudatory  manner 
concerning  Varvara  Pavlovna — "  My  dear  fel- 
low," he  exclaimed,  with  the  impetuous  harmony 
in  his  voice  which  was  peculiar  to  him, — "  that 
young  girl  is  an  amazing,  a  talented  being,  an 
artist  in  the  genuine  sense  of  the  word,  and  ex- 
tremely amiable  to  boot." — Perceiving  from  La- 

79 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

vretzky's  question  what  an  impression  Varvara 
Pavlovna  had  produced  upon  him,  he  himself  pro- 
posed to  introduce  him  to  her,  adding  that  he 
was  quite  at  home  in  their  house ;  that  the  General 
was  not  at  all  a  proud  man,  and  the  mother  was 
so  stupid  that  she  all  but  sucked  a  rag.  Lavret- 
zky  blushed,  muttered  something  unintelligible, 
and  fled.  For  five  whole  days  he  wrestled  with 
his  timidity;  on  the  sixth  day  the  young  Spartan 
donned  a  new  uniform,  and  placed  himself  at  the 
disposition  of  Mikhalevitch,  who  being  his  own 
valet,  confined  himself  to  brushing  his  hair, — 
and  the  two  set  out  for  the  Korobyns'. 


80 


XIII 

The  father  of  Varvara  Pavlovna,  Pavel  Petro- 
vitch  Korobyn,  Major-General  on  the  retired 
list,  had  spent  his  whole  life  in  Petersburg,  in 
the  service ;  had  borne  the  reputation,  in  his  youth, 
of  being  an  accomplished  dancer  and  officer  of 
the  line;  found  himself,  owing  to  poverty,  the 
adjutant  of  two  or  three  ill-favoured  Generals; 
married  the  daughter  of  one  of  them,  receiv- 
ing twenty-five  thousand  rubles  as  her  dowry ;  ac- 
quired, in  its  finest  details,  the  love  of  drills 
and  reviews ;  toiled,  and  toiled  hard,  for  his  liveli- 
hood, and  at  last,  at  the  end  of  twenty  years,  at- 
tained to  the  rank  of  General,  and  received  a 
regiment.  It  was  time  for  him  to  rest,  and  with- 
out delay  to  establish  his  prosperity  on  a  firm  ba- 
sis; this  was  what  he  calculated  on  doing,  but  he 
managed  the  matter  somewhat  incautiously:  he 
hit  upon  a  new  method  of  putting  the  coin  of 
the  realm  into  circulation, — the  method  proved 
to  be  a  capital  one,  but  he  did  not  get  out  in  sea- 
son: a  complaint  was  made  against  him;  a  more 
than  unpleasant,  an  ugly  scandal  ensued.  The 
General  managed  to  wriggle  out  of  the  scandal, 
after  a  fashion,  but  his  career  was  ruined:  he  was 

81 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

advised  to  resign.  He  hung  about  in  Petersburg 
for  a  couple  of  years  longer  in  the  hope  that 
some  snug  little  place  would  get  stranded  on  him : 
but  the  place  did  not  strand  on  him,  and  his 
daughter  came  out  of  the  government  school,  and 
his  expenses  increased  every  day.  .  .  .  Repress- 
ing his  wrath,  he  decided  to  remove  to  Moscow  for 
the  sake  of  economy,  hired  a  tiny,  low-roofed 
house  on  Old  Stable  Street,  with  a  coat  of  arms 
a  fathom  tall  on  the  roof,  and  began  to  live  the 
life  of  a  Moscow  General  on  the  retired  list, 
spending  2750  rubles  a  year.  Moscow  is  a  hos- 
pitable town,  glad  to  welcome  everybody  who 
comes  along,  and  more  particularly,  Generals; 
Pavel  Petrovitch's  heavy  figure,  which  yet  was 
not  lacking  in  military  mien,  speedily  began  to 
make  its  appearance  in  the  best  drawing-rooms  of 
Moscow.  His  bald  nape,  with  tufts  of  dyed  hair, 
and  the  dirty  ribbon  of  the  order  of  St.  Anna  on 
a  neckcloth  the  hue  of  the  raven's  wing,  began  to 
be  well  known  to  all  the  easily  bored  and  pallid 
young  men  who  morosely  hovered  around  the 
gambling-tables  while  dancing  was  in  progress. 
Pavel  Petrovitch  understood  how  to  place  himself 
in  society;  he  talked  little,  but,  by  force  of  old 
habit,  through  his  nose, — of  course,  not  with  indi- 
viduals belonging  to  the  higher  ranks ;  he  played 
cards  cautiously,  at  home  he  ate  sparingly,  but 
when  visiting  he  ate  for  six.  Concerning  his  wife, 
there  is  hardly  anything  to  say:  her  name  was 

82 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Kalliope  Karlovna;  a  tear  oozed  from  her  left 
eye,  by  virtue  of  which  Kalliope  Karlovna  (she 
was,  moreover,  of  German  extraction)  regarded 
herself  as  a  woman  of  sentiment ;  she  lived  in  con- 
stant fear  of  something,  never  seemed  to  have  had 
quite  enough  to  eat,  and  wore  tight  velvet  gowns, 
a  turban,  and  dull  bracelets  of  hollow  metal. 
Varvara  Pavlovna,  the  only  daughter  of  Pavel 
Petrovitch  and  Kalliope  Karlovna,  had  just 
passed  her  seventeenth  birthday  when  she  came 
out  of  the  *  *  *  Institute,  where  she  had  been 
considered,  if  not  the  greatest  beauty,  certainly 
the  cleverest  girl  and  the  best  musician,  and  where 
she  had  received  the  chiffre;  1  she  was  not  yet 
nineteen  when  Lavretzky  beheld  her  for  the  first 
time. 

1  In  the  Government  Institutes  for  girls,  the  chief  prize  is 
the  Empress's  initial,  in  jewels. —  Translator. 


83 


XIV 

The  legs  of  the  Spartan  gave  way  beneath  him 
when  Mikhalevitch  conducted  him  into  the  rather 
shabbily  furnished  drawing-room  of  the  Koro- 
byns,  and  presented  him  to  the  master  and  mis- 
tress of  the  house.  But  the  feeling  of  timidity 
which  had  taken  possession  of  him  promptly  dis- 
appeared: in  the  General  the  kindliness  of  na- 
ture innate  in  all  Russians  was  greatly  increased 
by  that  special  sort  of  courtesy  which  is  peculiar 
to  all  besmirched  people;  the  Generaless  soon 
disappeared,  somehow ;  as  for  Varvara  Pavlovna, 
she  was  so  calm  and  self -possessedly  amiable,  that 
any  one  would  immediately  have  felt  himself  at 
home  in  her  presence;  moreover,  from  the  whole 
of  her  enchanting  person,  from  her  smiling  eyes, 
from  her  innocently-sloping  shoulders  and 
faintly-rosy  hands,  from  her  light  and,  at  the 
same  time,  rather  languid  gait,  from  the  very 
sound  of  her  voice,  which  was  low  and  sweet, — 
there  breathed  forth  an  insinuating  charm,  as 
intangible  as  a  delicate  perfume,  a  soft  and  as 
yet  modest  intoxication,  something  which  it  is 
difficult  to  express  in  words,  but  which  touched 
and  excited, — and,  of  course,  excited  something 
which  was  not  timidity.     Lavretzky  turned  the 

84 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

conversation  on  the  theatre,  on  the  performance 
of  the  preceding  evening ;  she  immediately  began, 
herself,  to  speak  of  Motchaloff ,  and  did  not  con- 
fine herself  merely  to  exclamations  and  sighs,  but 
uttered  several  just  and  femininely-penetrating 
remarks  concerning  his  acting.  Mikhalevitch 
alluded  to  music;  without  any  affectation  she 
seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and  played  with  pre- 
cision several  mazurkas  by  Chopin,  which  had 
only  just  come  into  fashion.  The  dinner-hour 
arrived ;  Lavretzky  made  a  motion  to  depart,  but 
they  kept  him;  at  table,  the  General  treated  him 
to  good  claret,  for  which  the  General's  lackey  had 
galloped  in  a  cab  to  Depre's.  Late  at  night, 
Lavretzky  returned  home,  and  sat  for  a  long 
time,  without  undressing,  his  eyes  covered  with 
his  hand,  in  dumb  enchantment.  It  seemed  to 
him,  that  only  now  had  he  come  to  understand 
why  life  was  worth  living ;  all  his  hypotheses,  his 
intentions,  all  that  nonsense  and  rubbish,  van- 
ished instantaneously ;  his  whole  soul  was  merged 
in  one  sentiment,  in  one  desire,  in  the  desire  for 
happiness,  possession,  love,  the  sweet  love  of 
woman.  From  that  day  forth,  he  began  to  go 
often  to  the  Korobyns'.  Six  months  later,  he 
declared  himself  to  Varvara  Pavlovna,  and  of- 
fered her  his  hand.  His  proposal  was  accepted ; 
the  General  had  long  since,  almost  on  the  eve  of 
his  first  visit,  inquired  of  Mikhalevitch  how  many 
serfs  he,  Lavretzky,  had ;  and  Varvara  Pavlovna 

85 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

also,  who,  during  the  whole  period  of  the  young 
man's  courtship  and  even  at  the  moment  of  his 
declaration,  had  preserved  her  habitual  tranquil- 
lity and  clearness  of  soul, — Varvara  Pavlovna 
also  was  well  aware  that  her  lover  was  rich; 
and  Kalliope  Karlovna  said  to  herself:  "  Meine 
Tochter  macht  eine  schone  Partie  " — and  bought 
herself  a  new  turban. 


86 


XV 

So  his  proposal  was  accepted,  but  on  certain  con- 
ditions. In  the  first  place,  Lavretzky  must  im- 
mediately leave  the  university:  who  marries  a 
student  ?  and  what  a  dreadful  idea, — for  a  landed 
proprietor,  rich,  and  twenty-six  years  old,  to  take 
lessons  like  a  school-boy!  In  the  second  place, 
Varvara  Pavlovna  took  upon  herself  the  labour 
of  ordering  and  purchasing  the  trousseau,  even 
of  choosing  the  bridegroom's  gifts.  She  had  a 
great  deal  of  practical  sense,  much  taste,  much 
love  for  comfort,  and  a  great  knack  for  secur- 
ing for  herself  that  comfort.  This  knack  partic- 
ularly astonished  Lavretzky  when,  immediately 
after  the  wedding,  he  and  his  wife  set  out  in  a 
commodious  carriage,  which  she  had  bought,  for 
Lavrfki.  How  everything  which  surrounded  him 
had  been  planned,  foreseen,  provided  for  by  Var- 
vara Pavlovna!  What  charming  travelling  re- 
quisites, what  fascinating  toilet-boxes  and  coffee- 
pots, made  their  appearance  in  divers  snug  nooks, 
and  how  prettily  Varvara  Pavlovna  herself  boiled 
the  coffee  in  the  mornings!  But  Lavretzky  was 
not  then  in  a  mood  for  observation:  he  was  in  a 
beatific  state,  he  was  intoxicating  himself  with 

87 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

happiness;  he  gave  himself  up  to  it  like  a 
child.  .  .  .  And  he  was  as  innocent  as  a  child, 
that  young  Alcides.  Not  in  vain  did  witchery 
exhale  from  the  whole  being  of  his  young  wife; 
not  in  vain  did  she  promise  to  the  senses  the  secret 
luxury  of  unknown  delights;  she  fulfilled  more 
than  she  had  promised.  On  arriving  at  Lavriki, 
in  the  very  hottest  part  of  the  summer,  she  found 
the  house  dirty  and  dark,  the  servants  ridiculous 
and  antiquated,  but  she  did  not  find  it  necessary 
even  to  hint  at  this  to  her  husband.  If  she  had 
been  making  preparations  to  settle  down  at  La- 
vriki, she  would  have  made  over  everything  about 
it,  beginning,  of  course,  with  the  house;  but  the 
idea  of  remaining  in  that  God-forsaken  corner  of 
the  steppes  never  entered  her  mind  for  one  mo- 
ment; she  lived  in  it,  as  though  camping  out, 
gently  enduring  all  the  inconveniences  and  mak- 
ing amusing  jests  over  them.  Marfa  Timofeevna 
came  to  see  her  nursling ;  Varvara  Pavlovna  took 
a  great  liking  for  her,  but  she  did  not  take  a 
liking  for  Varvara  Pavlovna.  Neither  did  the 
new  mistress  of  the  house  get  on  well  with  Glaf  ira 
Petrovna;  she  would  have  left  her  in  peace,  but 
old  Korobyn  wanted  to  feather  his  nest  from  his 
son-in-law's  affairs;  "  it  was  no  shame,  even  for 
a  General,"  said  he,  "  to  manage  the  estate  of  so 
near  a  relative."  It  must  be  assumed  that  Pavel 
Petrovitch  would  not  have  disdained  to  busy  him- 
self with  the  estate  of  an  entire  stranger.    Var- 

88 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

vara  Pavlovna  conducted  her  attack  in  a  very  art- 
ful manner:  without  thrusting  herself  forward, 
and  still,  to  all  appearances,  wholly  absorbed  in 
the  felicity  of  the  honeymoon,  in  quiet  country 
life,  in  music  and  reading,  she  little  by  little  drove 
Glaffra  Petrovna  to  such  a  state,  that  one  morn- 
ing the  latter  rushed  like  a  madwoman  into 
Lavretzky's  study,  and,  hurling  her  bunch  of  keys 
on  the  table,  announced  that  it  was  beyond  her 
power  to  occupy  herself  with  the  housekeeping, 
and  that  she  did  not  wish  to  remain  in  the  country. 
Having  been  properly  prepared  in  advance,  La- 
vretzky  immediately  consented  to  her  departure. 
— Glaffra  Petrovna  had  not  expected  this.  "Very 
well,"  said  she,  and  her  eyes  grew  dark, — "  I  see 
that  I  am  not  wanted  here !  I  know  who  it  is  that 
is  driving  me  hence — from  my  native  nest.  But 
do  thou  remember  my  words,  nephew :  thou  shalt 
never  be  able  to  build  thyself  a  nest  anywhere, 
thou  must  wander  all  thy  life.  That  is  my  legacy 
to  thee." — That  very  day  she  departed  to  her  own 
little  estate,  and  a  week  later  General  Korobyn 
arrived,  and  with  agreeable  melancholy  in  his 
gaze  and  movements,  took  the  management  of  the 
entire  estate  into  his  hands. 

In  September,  Varvara  Petrovna  carried  her 
husband  off  to  Petersburg.  She  spent  two  win- 
ters in  Petersburg  (they  removed  to  Tzarskoe 
Selo  for  the  summer),  in  a  beautiful,  light,  ele- 
gantly furnished  apartment;  they  made  many 

89 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

acquaintances  in  middle-class  and  even  in  the 
higher  circles  of  society,  they  went  out  and  re- 
ceived a  great  deal,  and  gave  most  charming  mu- 
sical and  dancing  parties.  Varvara  Pavlovna  at- 
tracted guests  as  a  flame  attracts  moths.  Such  a 
dissipated  life  did  not  altogether  please  Feodor 
Ivanitch.  His  wife  advised  him  to  enter  the  ser- 
vice; owing  to  his  father's  old  memories,  and  his 
own  conceptions,  he  would  not  serve,  but  to  please 
his  wife  he  remained  in  Petersburg.  But  he 
speedily  divined  that  no  one  prevented  his  iso- 
lating himself,  that  it  was  not  for  nothing  that 
he  had  the  quietest  and  most  comfortable  study 
in  all  Petersburg,  that  his  solicitous  wife  was  even 
ready  to  help  him  to  isolate  himself, — and  from 
that  time  forth  all  went  splendidly.  Once  more 
he  took  up  his  own  education,  which,  in  his  opin- 
ion, was  unfinished,  once  more  he  began  to  read, 
he  even  began  to  study  the  English  language.  It 
was  strange  to  see  his  mighty,  broad-shouldered 
figure,  eternally  bent  over  his  writing-table,  his 
full,  hairy,  ruddy  face  half  concealed  by  the  pages 
of  a  dictionary  or  an  exercise-book.  Every  morn- 
ing he  spent  in  work,  dined  capitally  (Varvara 
Pavlovna  was  an  excellent  housewife ) ,  and  in  the 
evening  he  entered  an  enchanting,  fragrant,  bril- 
liant world,  all  populated  with  young,  merry 
faces, — and  the  central  point  of  that  world  was 
also  the  zealous  hostess,  his  wife.  She  gladdened 
him  with  the  birth  of  a  son,  but  the  poor  boy  did 

90 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  live  long:  he  died  in  the  spring,  and  in  the 
summer,  by  the  advice  of  the  physicians,  La- 
vretzky  took  his  wife  abroad,  to  the  baths.  Di- 
version was  indispensable  to  her,  after  such  a 
bereavement,  and  her  health  required  a  warm 
climate.  They  spent  the  summer  and  autumn  in 
Germany  and  Switzerland,  and  in  the  winter,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  they  went  to  Paris. 
In  Paris  Varvara  Pavlovna  blossomed  out  like  a 
rose,  and  managed  to  build  a  little  nest  for  her- 
self as  promptly  and  as  adroitly  as  in  Petersburg. 
She  found  an  extremely  pretty  apartment,  in  one 
of  the  quiet  but  fashionable  Paris  streets;  she 
made  her  husband  such  a  dressing-gown  as  he  had 
never  owned  before;  she  hired  a  trim  maid,  a 
capital  cook,  a  smart  footman;  she  got  an  en- 
chanting carriage,  a  charming  little  piano.  A 
week  had  not  passed  before  she  crossed  a  street, 
wore  her  shawl,  opened  her  parasol,  and  put  on 
her  gloves  in  a  style  equal  to  that  of  the  purest- 
blooded  Parisienne.  And  she  soon  provided  her- 
self with  acquaintances.  At  first,  only  Russians 
went  to  her  house,  then  Frenchmen  began  to 
make  their  appearance,  very  amiable,  courteous, 
unmarried,  with  beautiful  manners  and  euphoni- 
ous family  names ;  they  all  talked  fast  and  much, 
bowed  with  easy  grace,  and  screwed  up  their  eyes 
in  a  pleasing  way;  all  of  them  had  white  teeth 
which  gleamed  beneath  rosy  lips, — and  how  they 
did  understand  the  art  of  smiling!  Every  one  of 

91 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

them  brought  his  friends,  and  "  la  belle  Madame 
de  Lavretzki '  soon  became  known  from  the 
Chaussee  d'Antin  to  the  Rue  de  Lille.  In  those 
days  (this  took  place  in  1836),  that  tribe  of 
f  euilleton  and  chronicle  writers,  which  now  swarm 
everywhere,  like  ants  in  an  ant-hill  which  has 
been  cut  open,  had  not  multiplied ;  but  even  then, 
a  certain  M — r  Jules  presented  himself  in  Var- 
vara Pavlovna's  salon,  a  gentleman  of  insignifi- 
cant appearance,  with  a  scandalous  reputation, 
insolent  and  base,  like  all  duellists  and  beaten 
men.  This  M — r  Jules  was  extremely  repulsive 
to  Varvara  Pavlovna,  but  she  received  him  be- 
cause he  scribbled  for  various  journals,  and  inces- 
santly alluded  to  her,  calling  her  now  "  Mme.  de 
L  *  *  *  tzki"  now  "  Mme.  de  *  *  *  cette  grande 
dame  Russe  si  distinguee,  qui  demeure  rue  de  P." ; 
narrating  to  all  the  world,  that  is  to  say,  to  a  few 
hundred  subscribers,  who  cared  nothing  whatever 
about  cc Mme.  de  L  *  *  *  tzki"  how  that  pretty 
and  charming  lady  was  a  real  Frenchwoman  in 
mind  (une  vraie  francaise  par  V esprit), — there  is 
no  higher  encomium  for  the  French, — what  a  re- 
markable musician  she  was,  and  how  wonderfully 
she  waltzed  (Varvara  Pavlovna,  in  reality,  did 
waltz  in  such  a  manner  as  to  draw  all  hearts  after 
the  hem  of  her  light,  fluttering  gown)  ...  in  a 
word,  he  spread  her  fame  throughout  the  world, 
— and  assuredly  that  is  agreeable,  say  what  you 
will.    Mile.  Mars  had  already  left  the  stage,  and 

92 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Mile.  Rachel  had  not  yet  made  her  appearance; 
nevertheless,  Varvara  Pavlovna  diligently  fre- 
quented the  theatres.  She  went  into  ecstasies 
over  Italian  music,  and  laughed  at  the  ruins  of 
Odra,  yawned  decorously  at  the  Comedie  Fran- 
chise, and  wept  at  the  acting  of  Mme.  Dorval  in 
some  ultra-romantic  melodrama  or  other;  but, 
chief  of  all,  Liszt  played  a  couple  of  times  at  her 
house,  and  was  so  nice,  so  simple — it  was  de- 
lightful! In  such  pleasant  sensations  passed  a 
winter,  at  the  end  of  which  Varvara  Pavlovna 
was  even  presented  at  Court.  Feodor  Ivanitch, 
on  his  side,  was  not  bored,  although  life,  at  times, 
weighed  heavily  on  his  shoulders, — heavily,  be- 
cause it  was  empty.  He  read  the  newspapers,  he 
listened  to  lectures  at  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Col- 
lege de  France,  he  kept  track  of  the  debates  in 
parliament,  he  undertook  the  translation  of  a 
well-known  scientific  work  on  irrigation.  "  I  am 
not  wasting  time," — he  said  to  himself, — "  all 
this  is  useful;  but  next  winter  I  must,  without 
fail,  return  to  Russia  and  set  to  work."  It  is  dif- 
ficult to  say,  whether  he  was  clearly  conscious 
in  what  that  work  consisted,  and  God  knows 
whether  he  would  have  succeeded  in  returning  to 
Russia  for  the  winter, — in  the  meantime,  he  went 
with  his  wife  to  Baden-Baden.  .  .  An  unex- 
pected event  destroyed  all  his  plans. 


93 


XVI 

One  day,  on  entering  Varvara  Pavlovna's  bou- 
doir in  her  absence,  Lavretzky  beheld  on  the  floor 
a  tiny,  carefully-folded  scrap  of  paper.  He 
mechanically  picked  it  up,  mechanically  unfolded 
it,  and  read  the  following,  written  in  French: 

"  Dear  angel  Betsy!  (I  cannot  possibly  bring  myself 
to  call  thee  Barbe  or  Varvara).  I  waited  in  vain  for 
thee  at  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard;  come  to-morrow, 
at  half-past  one,  to  our  little  apartment.  Thy  good 
fatty  (ton  gros  bonhomme  de  mari)  generally  buries 
himself  in  his  books  at  that  hour;  again  we  will  sing 
the  song  of  your  poet  Puskin  (de  votre  poete  Pous- 
Tcine)  which  thou  hast  taught  me :  '  Old  husband,  men- 
acing husband ! ' — A  thousand  kisses  on  thy  hands  and 
feet!   I  await  thee." 

"  Ernest." 

Lavretzky  did  not,  on  the  instant,  understand 
what  sort  of  thing  it  was  he  had  read ;  he  perused 
it  a  second  time — and  his  head  reeled,  the  floor 
swayed  beneath  his  feet,  like  the  deck  of  a  steamer 
when  it  is  pitching — he  cried  out,  and  sobbed  and 
wept  simultaneously. 

He  lost  his  senses.    He  had  so  blindly  trusted 

94 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

his  wife,  that  the  possibility  of  deception,  of 
treachery,  had  never  presented  itself  to  his  mind. 
That  Ernest,  that  lover  of  his  wife's  was  a  fair- 
haired,  good-looking  boy  of  three  and  twenty, 
with  a  small  snub  nose  and  thin  moustache,  almost 
the  most  insignificant  of  all  her  admirers.  Sev- 
eral minutes  passed,  half  an  hour  passed ;  Lavret- 
zky  still  stood,  crushing  the  fatal  missive  in  his 
hand  and  staring  senselessly  at  the  floor ;  through 
a  sort  of  dark  whirlwind,  visions  of  pale  faces 
flitted  before  him;  his  heart  sank  within  him,  in 
anguish;  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  falling, 
falling,  falling  .  .  .  and  that  there  was  no  end 
to  it.  The  light,  familiar  rustle  of  a  silken  robe 
aroused  him  from  his  state  of  stupefaction ;  Var- 
vara  Pavlovna,  in  bonnet  and  shawl,  had  hastily 
returned  from  her  stroll.  Lavretzky  trembled  all 
over,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room ;  he  felt  that  at 
that  moment  he  was  capable  of  tearing  her  to 
pieces,  of  beating  her  until  she  was  half  dead,  in 
peasant  fashion,  of  strangling  her  with  his  hands. 
The  astonished  Varvara  Pavlovna  tried  to  stop 
him;  he  could  only  whisper:  "  Betsy  " — and  fled 
from  the  house. 

Lavretzky  took  a  carriage,  and  ordered  the 
man  to  drive  him  out  of  town.  The  entire  re- 
mainder of  the  day,  and  the  whole  night  long  until 
the  morning,  he  roamed  about,  incessantly  halt- 
ing and  wringing  his  hands :  now  he  raged,  again 
it  seemed  rather  ridiculous  to  him,  even  rather 

95 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

amusing.  In  the  morning  he  was  chilled  through, 
and  entered  a  wretched  suburban  inn,  asked  for 
a  room,  and  seated  himself  on  a  chair  by  the  win- 
dow. A  convulsive  yawning  seized  hold  upon 
him.  He  could  hardly  stand  on  his  feet,  his  body 
was  exhausted, — but  he  was  conscious  of  no 
fatigue, — yet  fatigue  claimed  its  rights:  he  sat 
and  stared,  and  understood  nothing;  he  did  not 
understand  what  had  happened  to  him,  why  he 
found  himself  alone,  with  benumbed  limbs,  with 
a  bitterness  in  his  mouth,  with  a  stone  on  his 
breast,  in  a  bare,  strange  room ;  he  did  not  under- 
stand what  had  made  her,  Varya,  give  herself  to 
that  Frenchman,  and  how  she  had  been  able, 
knowing  herself  to  be  unfaithful,  to  be  as  calm, 
amiable,  and  confiding  toward  him  as  before !  '  I 
understand  nothing!  "  whispered  his  parched  lips. 
"  Who  will  guarantee  me  now,  that  in  Peters- 
burg .  .  .  ."  And  he  did  not  finish  the  question, 
and  yawned  again,  quivering  and  writhing  all 
over.  The  bright  and  the  dark  memories  tor- 
mented him  equally ;  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him, 
that  a  few  days  previous^,  in  his  presence  and  in 
that  of  Ernest,  she  had  seated  herself  at  the  piano 
and  had  sung:  "Old  husband,  menacing  hus- 
band!" He  recalled  the  expression  of  her  face, 
the  strange  glitter  of  her  eyes,  and  the  flush  on 
her  cheeks, — and  he  rose  from  his  chair;  he 
wanted  to  go  and  to  say  to  them :  :  You  have 
made  a  mistake  in  trifling  with  me;  my  great- 

96 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

grandfather  used  to  hang  the  peasants  up  by  the 
ribs,  and  my  grandfather  himself  was  a  peasant  " 
— and  kill  them  both.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  it 
seemed  to  him,  that  everything  which  was  taking 
place  with  him  was  a  dream,  and  not  even  a  dream, 
but  merely  some  nonsense  or  other:  that  all  he 
had  to  do  was  to  shake  himself,  to  look  about 
him.  .  .  .  He  did  look  about  him,  and  as  the 
hawk  buries  his  claws  in  the  bird  he  has  captured, 
anguish  pierced  more  and  more  deeply  into  his 
heart.  To  crown  all,  Lavretzky  was  hoping  at 
the  end  of  a  few  months  to  become  a  father.  .  . 
The  past,  the  future,  his  whole  life  was  poisoned. 
He  returned,  at  last,  to  Paris,  put  up  at  a  hotel, 
and  sent  Varvara  Pavlovna  the  note  of  M — r 
Ernest,  with  the  following  letter: 

"  The  accompanying  document  will  explain  everything 
to  you.  I  will  say  to  you,  by  the  way,  that  I  did  not 
recognise  you:  you,  always  such  a  precise  person,  to 
drop  such  an  important  paper !  "  (  This  phrase  poor  La- 
vretzky had  prepared  and  cherished  for  the  space  of  sev- 
eral hours. )  "I  can  see  you  no  more ;  I  assume  that  you, 
also,  cannot  wish  to  meet  me.  I  have  assigned  fifteen 
thousand  francs  a  year  to  you;  I  cannot  give  more. 
Send  your  address  to  the  office  of  the  estate.  Do  what 
you  will,  live  where  you  please.  I  wish  you  happiness. 
No  answer  is  necessary." 

Lavretzky  wrote  to  his  wife,  that  no  answer 
was  necessary  .  .  .  but  he  waited,  he  thirsted  for 

97 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

an  answer,  an  explanation  of  this  incomprehensi- 
ble, this  incredible  affair.  Varvara  Pavlovna, 
that  very  day,  sent  him  a  long  letter  in  French. 
It  made  an  end  of  him;  his  last  doubts  vanished, 
— and  he  felt  ashamed  that  he  had  still  cherished 
doubts.  Varvara  Pavlovna  did  not  defend  her- 
self: she  merely  wished  to  see  him,  she  entreated 
him  not  to  condemn  her  irrevocably.  The  letter 
was  cold  and  constrained,  although  the  traces  of 
tears  were  visible  here  and  there.  Lavretzky  ut- 
tered a  bitter  laugh,  and  bade  the  messenger  say 
that  it  was  all  very  good.  Three  days  later,  he 
had  quitted  Paris :  but  he  went,  not  to  Russia,  but 
to  Italy.  He  himself  did  not  know  why  he  had 
chosen  Italy,  in  particular;  in  reality,  it  made  no 
difference  to  him  whither  he  went, — provided  it 
were  not  home.  He  sent  instructions  to  his  peas- 
ant-steward in  regard  to  his  wife's  pension,  or- 
dered him,  at  the  same  time,  to  take  all  matters 
pertaining  to  the  estate  instantly  out  of  the  hands 
of  General  Korobyn,  without  awaiting  the  sur- 
render of  the  accounts,  and  to  make  arrangements 
for  the  departure  of  His  Excellency  from  La- 
vriki ;  he  formed  a  vivid  picture  to  himself,  of  the 
consternation,  the  fruitless  haughtiness  of  the 
ejected  General,  and,  with  all  his  grief,  he  felt  a 
certain  malicious  satisfaction.  Then  he  invited 
Glafira  Petrovna,  in  a  letter  also,  to  return  to 
Lavrfki,  and  sent  her  a  power  of  attorney. 
Glafira   Petrovna   did   not   return    to   Lavriki, 

98 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  herself  published  in  the  newspapers  that 
she  had  destroyed  the  power  of  attorney,  which 
was  quite  superfluous.  Hiding  himself  in  a  small 
Italian  town,  it  was  a  long  time  still  before  La- 
vretzky  could  force  himself  not  to  watch  his 
wife.  He  learned  from  the  newspapers,  that  she 
had  quitted  Paris,  as  it  was  supposed,  for  Baden- 
Baden  :  her  name  soon  made  its  appearance  in  an 
article  written  by  that  same  M'sieu  Jules.  In 
this  article,  a  sort  of  friendly  condolence  pierced 
through  the  customary  playfulness;  Feodor 
Ivanitch's  soul  was  in  a  very  ugly  state  when  he 
read  that  article.  Later  on,  he  learned  that  a 
daughter  had  been  born  to  him;  at  the  end  of  a 
couple  of  months,  he  was  informed  by  his  peasant- 
steward,  that  Varvara  Pavlovna  had  demanded 
the  first  third  of  her  allowance.  Then  more  and 
more  evil  reports  began  to  arrive ;  at  last,  a  tragi- 
comic tale  made  the  rounds — creating  a  sensa- 
tion— of  the  newspapers,  wherein  his  wife  played 
an  unenviable  part.  All  was  at  an  end :  Varvara 
Pavlovna  had  become  "  a  celebrity." 

Lavretzky  ceased  to  follow  her  career;  but  he 
was  not  able  speedily  to  conquer  himself.  At 
times,  he  was  seized  with  such  a  longing  for  his 
wife,  that  it  seemed  to  him,  he  would  give  every- 
thing— he  would  even,  if  necessary  .  .  .  forgive 
her — if  only  he  might  again  hear  her  caressing 
voice,  again  feel  her  hand  in  his  hand.  But  time 
went  on,  and  not  in  vain.     He  was  not  born  to 

99 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

be  a  martyr ;  his  healthy  nature  asserted  its  rights. 
Much  became  clear  to  him;  the  very  blow  which 
had  assailed  him,  no  longer  seemed  to  him  un- 
foreseen; he  understood  his  wife, — one  under- 
stands a  person  who  is  near  to  one,  when  parted 
from  him.  Again  he  was  able  to  occupy  himself, 
to  work,  although  with  far  less  zeal  than  of  yore : 
scepticism,  for  which  the  way  had  been  prepared 
by  the  experiences  of  life,  by  his  education,  defin- 
itively took  possession  of  his  soul.  He  became 
extremely  indifferent  to  everything.  Four  years 
elapsed,  and  he  felt  himself  strong  enough  to  re- 
turn to  his  native  land,  to  meet  his  own  people. 
Without  halting  either  in  Petersburg  or  Moscow, 
he  arrived  in  the  town  of  O  *  *  *  where  we  took 
leave  of  him,  and  whither  we  now  beg  the  indul- 
gent reader  to  return  with  us. 


100 


it 


XVII 

On  the  morning  following  the  day  which  we 
have  described,  at  nine  o'clock,  Lavretzky  as- 
cended the  porch  of  the  Kalitin  house.  Liza 
emerged  to  meet  him,  in  hat  and  gloves. 

'  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  To  church.    To-day  is  Sunday." 

'  And  do  you  really  care  to  go  to  the  Liturgy?" 

Liza  said  nothing,  but  gazed  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment. 

Pardon  me,  please," — said  Lavretzky, — 
I  ...  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that.  I  came  to 
say  good-bye  to  you:  I  am  going  to  my  country 
place  an  hour  hence." 

"It  is  not  far  from  here,  is  it?  " — inquired 
Liza. 

"  Twenty-five  versts." 

Lyenotchka  made  her  appearance  on  the 
threshold  of  the  door,  accompanied  by  a  maid. 

"  See  that  you  do  not  forget  us," — said  Liza, 
and  descended  the  steps. 

"  And  do  not  you  forget  me.  And  see  here," — 
he  added, — "  you  are  going  to  church:  pray  for 
me  also,  by  the  way." 

Liza  paused  and  turned  toward  him. 

'  Certainly," — she  said,  looking  him  straight  in 

101 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

the  face: — "  I  will  pray  for  you.  Come  along, 
Lyenotchka." 

Lavretzky  found  Marya  Dmitrievna  alone  in 
the  drawing-room.  An  odour  of  eau  de  cologne 
and  mint  emanated  from  her.  She  had  a  head- 
ache, according  to  her  own  account,  and  she  had 
passed  a  restless  night.  She  welcomed  him  with 
her  customary  languid  amiability,  and  gradually 
got  to  talking. 

"  What  an  agreeable  young  man  Vladimir 
Nikolaitch  is,"  she  inquired: — "  is  he  not?  " 

"  What  Vladimir  Nikolaitch?  " 

'  Why,  Panshin,  you  know, — the  one  who  was 
here  yesterday  evening.  He  took  an  immense 
liking  to  you ;  I  will  tell  you,  as  a  secret,  mon  cher 
cousin,  he  is  simply  beside  himself  over  my  Liza. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?  He  comes  of  a  good 
family,  he  discharges  his  service  splendidly,  he 
is  clever,  well,  and  a  Junior  Gentleman  of  the 
Bedchamber,  and  if  it  be  God's  will  ....  I,  on 
my  side,  as  a  mother,  shall  be  very  glad.  It  is  a 
great  responsibility,  of  course:  up  to  the  present 
time,  whether  it  be  for  good  or  evil,  you  see,  I 
am  always,  everywhere,  entirely  alone:  I  have 
reared  my  children,  I  have  taught  them,  I  have 
done  everything  ....  and  now  I  have  ordered 
a  governess  from  Mme.  Bolius " 

Marya  Dmitrievna  launched  out  into  a  de- 
scription of  her  toils,  her  efforts,  and  her  ma- 
ternal feelings.     Lavretzky  listened  to  her  in  si- 

102 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

lence,  and  twirled  his  hat  in  his  hands.  His  cold, 
heavy  gaze  disconcerted  the  loquacious  lady. 

"  And  how  do  you  like  Liza?  " — she  asked. 

"  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna  is  an  extremely  beau- 
tiful girl," — replied  Lavretzky,  rose,  bowed,  and 
went  to  Marfa  Timofeevna.  Marya  Dmitrievna 
gazed  after  him  with  displeasure,  and  said  to 
herself;  "What  a  dolt,  what  a  peasant!  Well, 
now  I  understand  why  his  wife  could  not  remain 
faithful  to  him." 

Marfa  Timofeevna  was  sitting  in  her  own 
room,  surrounded  by  her  suite.  It  consisted  of 
five  beings,  almost  equally  near  to  her  heart :  a  f  at- 
jowled  trained  bullfinch,  which  she  loved  because 
he  had  ceased  to  whistle  and  draw  water;  a  tiny, 
very  timorous  and  peaceable  dog,  Roska;  an  an- 
gry cat  Matros  (Sailor)  ;  a  black-visaged  nimble 
little  girl  of  nine,  with  huge  eyes  and  a  sharp 
little  nose,  who  was  named  Schiirotchka;  and  an 
elderly  woman,  fifty  years  of  age,  in  a  white 
cap,  and  a  light  brown,  bob-tailed  jacket  over  a 
dark  gown,  by  name  Nastasya  Karpovna  Ogar- 
koff.  Schurotchka  was  of  the  petty  burgher 
class,  a  full  orphan.  Marfa  Timofeevna  had 
taken  charge  of  her  out  of  pity,  as  she  had  of 
Roska:  she  had  picked  up  both  the  dog  and  the 
girl  in  the  street ;  both  were  thin  and  hungry,  both 
were  being  drenched  by  the  autumnal  rain,  no 
one  had  hunted  up  Roska,  and  Schiirotchka's 
uncle,  a  drunken  shoemaker,  who  had  not  enough 

103 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

to  eat  himself,  and  who  did  not  feed  his  niece, 
though  he  beat  her  over  the  head  with  his  last, 
gladly  surrendered  her  to  Marfa  Timofeevna. 
With  Nastasya  Karpovna,  Marfa  Timofeevna 
had  made  acquaintance  on  a  pilgrimage,  in  a 
monastery;  she  herself  had  gone  up  to  her  in 
church  (Marfa  Timofeevna  liked  her  because,  to 
use  her  own  words,  "she  prayed  tastily"),  had 
herself  begun  the  conversation,  and  had  invited 
her  to  come  to  her  for  a  cup  of  tea.  From  that 
day  forth,  she  had  never  parted  with  her.  Nasta- 
sya Karpovna  was  a  woman  of  the  merriest  and 
gentlest  disposition,  a  childless  widow,  member 
of  a  poverty-stricken  family  of  the  petty  no- 
bility; she  had  a  round,  grey  head,  soft  white 
hands,  a  soft  face,  with  large,  kindly  features,  and 
a  rather  ridiculous  snub  nose;  she  fairly  wor- 
shipped Marfa  Timofeevna,  and  the  latter  loved 
her  greatly,  although  she  jeered  at  her  tender 
heart :  Nastasya  Karpovna  felt  a  weakness  for  all 
young  people,  and  involuntarily  blushed  like  a 
girl  at  the  most  innocent  jest.  Her  entire  capital 
consisted  of  twelve  hundred  paper  rubles;  she 
lived  at  the  expense  of  Marfa  Timofeevna,  but  on 
equal  terms  with  her:  Marfa  Timofeevna  would 
not  have  tolerated  servility. 

"  Ah,  Fedya!  "  she  began,  as  soon  as  she  caught 
sight  of  him: — "  last  night,  thou  didst  not  see  my 
family :  admire  it.  We  are  all  assembled  for  tea ; 
this  is  our  second,  feast-day  tea.     Thou  mayest 

104 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

pet  all:  only  Schiirotchka  will  not  allow  thee,  and 
the  cat  scratches.  Art  thou  going  away  to-day? ' 
Yes," — Lavretzky  seated  himself  on  a  nar- 
row little  chair. — "  I  have  already  said  farewell 
to  Marya  Dmitrievna.  I  have  also  seen  Lizaveta 
Mikhailovna." 

"  Call  her  Liza,  my  father, — why  should  she  be 
Mikhailovna  to  thee!  And  sit  still,  or  thou  wilt 
break  Schurotchka's  chair." 

"  She  has  gone  to  church," — pursued  La- 
vretzky.    "  Is  she  pious?  " 

"  Yes,  Fedya, — very.  More  than  thou  and  I, 
Fedya." 

"  But  are  not  you  pious?  " — remarked  Nasta- 
sya  Karpovna,  in  a  whisper.  '  And  to-day :  you 
did  not  get  to  the  early  Liturgy,  but  you  will  go 
to  the  later  one." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it — thou  wilt  go  alone :  I  am 
lazy,  my  mother," — retorted  Marfa  Timofeevna, 
— "  I  am  pampering  myself  greatly  with  my 
tea." — She  called  Nastasya  thou,  although  she 
lived  on  equal  terms  with  her, — she  was  not  a 
Pestoff  for  nothing:  three  Pestoffs  are  recorded 
with  distinction  in  the  Book  of  Remembrance  of 
Ivan  Vasilievitch,  the  Terrible;1  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna knew  it. 

1  Ivan  the  Terrible  left  a  long  record  of  his  distinguished  victims, 
for  the  repose  of  whose  souls  he  ordered  prayers  to  be  said  in  per- 
petuity. "  Book  of  Remembrance "  contains  the  names  of  per- 
sons who  are  to  be  prayed  for  at  the  general  requiem  services,  and 
so  forth. — Translator. 

105 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Tell  me,  please," — began  Lavretzky  again: — 
"  Marya  Dmitrievna  has  just  been  talking  about 
that  ....  what 's  his  name  ....  Panshin.  What 
sort  of  a  person  is  he?  " 

"  What  a  chatterbox,  the  Lord  forgive  her!  " 
— grumbled  Marfa  Timofeevna: — "  I  suppose 
she  imparted  to  you,  as  a  secret,  what  a  fine  suitor 
has  turned  up.  She  might  do  her  whispering  with 
her  priest's  son;  but  no,  that  is  not  enough  for 
her.  But  there  's  nothing  in  it,  as  yet,  and  thank 
God  for  that!  but  she  's  babbling  already." 

"  Why  '  thank  God  '  ?  "—asked  Lavretzky. 

"  Why,  because  the  young  fellow  does  not 
please  me;  and  what  is  there  to  rejoice  about? ' 

"  He  does  not  please  you?  " 

"  Yes,  he  cannot  fascinate  everybody.  It 's 
enough  that  Nastasya  Karpovna  here  should  be 
in  love  with  him." 

The  poor  widow  was  thoroughly  startled. 

"  What  makes  you  say  that,  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna? You  do  not  fear  God!  " — she  exclaimed, 
and  a  blush  instantly  suffused  her  face  and 
neck. 

"  And  he  certainly  knows  the  rogue," — Marfa 
Timofeevna  interrupted  her: — "  he  knows  how  to 
captivate  her:  he  presented  her  with  a  snuff-box. 
Fedya,  ask  her  to  give  thee  a  pinch  of  snuff ;  thou 
wilt  see  what  a  splendid  snuff-box  it  is:  on  the 
lid  is  depicted  a  hussar  on  horseback.  Thou  hadst 
better  not  defend  thyself,  my  mother." 

106 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Nastasya  Karpovna  merely  repelled  the  sug- 
gestion with  a  wave  of  her  hands. 

"  Well," — inquired  Lavretzky, — "  and  is  Liza 
not  indifferent  to  him?  " 

"  Apparently,  she  likes  him, — however,  the 
Lord  only  knows.  Another  man's  soul,  thou 
knowest,  is  a  dark  forest,  much  more  the  soul  of 
a  young  girl.  Now,  there  's  Schurotchka's  soul — 
try  to  dissect  that !  Why  has  she  been  hiding  her- 
self, and  yet  does  not  go  away,  ever  since  thou 
earnest? " 

Schiirotchka  snorted  with  suppressed  laughter 
and  ran  out  of  the  room,  and  Lavretzky  rose  from 
his  seat. 

Yes," — he   said   slowly: — "a   maiden's   soul 
is  not  to  be  divined." 

He  began  to  take  leave. 

"Well?  Shall  we  see  thee  again  soon?" — 
asked  Marfa  Timofeevna. 

'  That 's  as  it  may  happen,  aunty ;  it  is  not  far 
off." 

:  Yes,  but  thou  art  going  to  Vasilievskoe. 
Thou  wilt  not  live  at  Lavriki: — well,  that  is 
thy  affair;  only,  go  and  salute  the  tomb  of  thy 
mother,  and  the  tomb  of  thy  grandmother  too,  by 
the  bye.  Thou  hast  acquired  all  sorts  of  learning 
yonder  abroad,  and  who  knows,  perchance  they 
will  feel  it  in  their  graves  that  thou  hast  come  to 
them.  And  don't  forget,  Fedya,  to  have  a  re- 
quiem service  celebrated  for  Glafira  Petrovna 

107 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

also ;  here  's  a  silver  ruble  for  thee.  Take  it,  take 
it,  I  want  to  pay  for  having  a  requiem  service  f oi- 
lier. During  her  lifetime  I  did  not  like  her,  but 
there  's  no  denying  it,  the  woman  had  plenty  of 
character.  She  was  a  clever  creature;  and  she 
did  not  wrong  thee,  either.  And  now  go,  with 
God's  blessing,  or  thou  wilt  grow  weary  of  me." 

And  Marfa  Timofeevna  embraced  her  nephew. 

"  And  Liza  shall  not  marry  Panshin, — don't 
worry  about  that ;  that 's  not  the  sort  of  husband 
she  deserves." 

"  Why,  I  am  not  worrying  in  the  least,"  replied 
Lavretzky,  and  withdrew. 


108 


XVIII 

Four  hours  later,  he  was  driving  homeward.  His 
tarantas  rolled  swiftly  along  the  soft  country 
road.  There  had  been  a  drought  for  a  fortnight ; 
a  thin  milky  cloud  was  diffused  through  the  air, 
and  veiled  the  distant  forests;  it  reeked  with  the 
odour  of  burning.  A  multitude  of  small,  dark 
cloudlets,  with  indistinctly  delineated  edges,  were 
creeping  across  the  pale-blue  sky ;  a  fairly  strong 
wind  was  whisking  along  in  a  dry,  uninterrupted 
stream,  without  dispelling  the  sultriness.  Lean- 
ing his  head  against  a  cushion,  and  folding 
his  arms  on  his  breast,  Lavretzky  gazed  at  the 
strips  of  ploughed  land,  in  fan-shape,  which  flew 
past,  at  the  willow-trees  slowly  flitting  by,  at  the 
stupid  crows  and  daws  gazing  with  dull  suspicion 
askance  at  the  passing  equipage,  at  the  long  strips 
of  turf  between  the  cultivated  sections,  overgrown 
with  artemisia,  wormwood,  and  wild  tansy;  he 
gazed  ....  and  that  fresh,  fertile  nakedness 
and  wildness  of  the  steppe,  that  verdure,  those 
long  hillocks,  the  ravines  with  stubby  oak  bushes, 
the  grey  hamlets,  the  flexible  birch-trees, — this 
whole  Russian  picture,  which  he  had  not  seen  for 
a  long  time,  wafted  into  his  soul  sweet  and,  at 

109 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

the  same  time,  painful  sensations,  weighed  on  his 
breast  with  a  certain  agreeable  oppression.  His 
thoughts  slowly  roved  about;  their  outlines  were 
as  indistinct  and  confused  as  the  outlines  of  those 
lofty  cloudlets,  which,  also,  seemed  to  be  roving. 
He  recalled  his  childhood,  his  mother;  he  remem- 
bered how  she  died,  how  they  had  carried  him  to 
her,  and  how  she,  pressing  his  head  to  her  bosom, 
had  begun  to  sing  feebly  over  him,  but  had  cast 
a  glance  at  Glafira  Petrovna — and  had  relapsed 
into  silence.  He  recalled  his  father,  at  first  alert, 
dissatisfied  with  every  one,  and  with  a  brazen 
voice, — then  blind,  tearful,  and  with  a  dirty  grey 
beard;  he  recalled  how,  one  day,  at  table,  after 
drinking  an  extra  glass  of  wine,  and  spilling  the 
sauce  over  his  napkin,  he  had  suddenly  burst  out 
laughing,  and  had  begun,  winking  his  sightless 
eyes  and  flushing  crimson,  to  tell  stories  of  his 
conquests;  he  recalled  Varvara  Pavlovna, — and 
involuntarily  screwed  up  his  eyes,  as  a  man  does 
from  momentary  inward  pain,  and  shook  his 
head.  Then  his  thoughts  came  to  a  pause  on 
Liza. 

"  Here,"  he  thought,  "  is  a  new  being,  who 
is  only  just  entering  upon  life.  A  splendid 
young  girl,  what  will  become  of  her?  She  is 
comely.  A  pale,  fresh  face,  such  serious  eyes 
and  lips,  and  an  honest  and  innocent  gaze.  It  is 
a  pity  that  she  seems  to  be  somewhat  enthusiastic. 
A  splendid  figure,  and  she  walks  so  lightly,  and 

110 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

her  voice  is  soft.  I  greatly  like  to  see  her  pause 
suddenly,  listen  attentively,  without  a  smile,  and 
then  meditate,  and  toss  back  her  hair.  Really, 
it  strikes  me  that  Panshin  is  not  worthy  of  her. 
But  what  is  there  wrong  about  him?  She  will 
traverse  the  road  which  all  traverse.  I  had  better 
take  a  nap."    And  Lavretzky  closed  his  eyes. 

He  could  not  get  to  sleep,  but  plunged  into  the 
dreamy  stupor  of  the  road.  Images  of  the  past, 
as  before,  arose  in  leisurely  fashion,  floated 
through  his  soul,  mingling  and  entangling  them- 
selves with  other  scenes.  Lavretzky,  God  knows 
why,  began  to  think  about  Robert  Peel  .  .  . 
about  French  history  .  .  .  about  how  he  would 
win  a  battle  if  he  were  a  general;  he  thought  he 
heard  shots  and  shrieks.  .  .  His  head  sank  to  one 
side,  he  opened  his  eyes.  .  .  The  same  fields,  the 
same  views  of  the  steppe;  the  polished  shoes  of 
the  trace-horse  flashed  in  turn  through  the  billow- 
ing dust;  the  shirt  of  the  postilion,  yellow,  with 
red  gussets  at  the  armpits,  puffed  out  in  the 
wind.  ..."  A  pretty  way  to  return  to  my  na- 
tive land  " — flashed  through  Lavretzky 's  head ; 
and  he  shouted:  "  Faster!  "  wrapped  himself  up 
in  his  cloak,  and  leaned  back  harder  against  his 
pillow.  The  tarantas  gave  a  jolt:  Lavretzky  sat 
upright,  and  opened  his  eyes  wide.  Before  him, 
on  a  hillock,  a  tiny  hamlet  lay  outspread;  a 
little  to  the  right,  a  small,  ancient  manor-house 
was  to  be  seen,  with  closed  shutters  and  a  crooked 

111 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

porch;  all  over  the  spacious  yard,  from  the  very 
gates,  grew  nettles,  green  and  thick  as  hemp; 
there,  also,  stood  a  small  oaken  store-house,  still 
sound.    This  was  Vasilievskoe. 

The  postilion  turned  up  to  the  gate,  and 
brought  the  horses  to  a  standstill;  Lavretzky's 
footman  rose  on  the  box,  and,  as  though  prepar- 
ing to  spring  down,  shouted:  "  Hey! '  A  hoarse, 
dull  barking  rang  out,  but  not  even  the  dog 
showed  himself;  the  lackey  again  prepared  to 
leap  down,  and  again  shouted:  "  Hey! '  The  de- 
crepit barking  was  renewed,  and,  a  moment  later, 
a  man  ran  out  into  the  yard,  no  one  could  tell 
whence, — a  man  in  a  nankeen  kaftan,  with  a  head 
as  white  as  snow ;  shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand, 
he  stared  at  the  tarantas,  suddenly  slapped  him- 
self on  both  thighs,  at  first  danced  about  a  little 
on  one  spot,  then  ran  to  open  the  gate.  The  ta- 
rantas drove  into  the  yard,  the  wheels  rustling 
against  the  nettles,  and  halted  in  front  of  the 
porch.  The  white-headed  man,  very  nimble,  to 
all  appearances,  was  already  standing,  with  his 
feet  planted  very  wide  apart  and  very  crooked, 
on  the  last  step;  and  having  unbuttoned  the 
apron,  convulsively  held  up  the  leather  and  aided 
the  master  to  descend  to  the  earth,  and  then  kissed 
his  hand. 

"  Good-day,  good-day,  brother," — said  La- 
vretzky, — "  I  think  thy  name  is  Anton?  Thou 
art  still  alive? " 

112 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

The  old  man  bowed  in  silence,  and  ran  to  fetch 
the  keys.  While  he  was  gone,  the  postilion  sat 
motionless,  bending  sideways  and  gazing  at  the 
locked  door;  but  Lavretzky's  lackey  remained 
standing  as  he  had  sprung  down,  in  a  picturesque 
pose,  with  one  hand  resting  on  the  box.  The  old 
man  brought  the  keys,  and  quite  unnecessarily 
writhing  like  a  serpent,  raising  his  elbows  on 
high,  he  unlocked  the  door,  stepped  aside,  and 
again  bowed  to  his  girdle. 

"  Here  I  am  at  home,  here  I  have  got  back," — 
said  Lavretzky  to  himself,  as  he  entered  the  tiny 
anteroom,  while  the  shutters  were  opened,  one 
after  the  other,  with  a  bang  and  a  squeak,  and 
the  daylight  penetrated  into  the  deserted  rooms. 


113 


XIX 

The  tiny  house  where  Lavretzky  had  arrived, 
and  where,  two  years  previously,  Glafira  Pe- 
trovna  had  breathed  her  last,  had  been  built  in 
the  previous  century,  out  of  sturdy  pine  lumber; 
in  appearance  it  was  decrepit,  but  was  capable 
of  standing  another  fifty  years  or  more.  La- 
vretzky made  the  round  of  all  the  rooms,  and,  to 
the  great  discomfiture  of  the  aged,  languid  flies, 
with  white  dust  on  their  backs,  who  were  sitting 
motionless  under  the  lintels  of  the  doors,  he  or- 
dered all  the  windows  to  be  opened;  no  one  had 
opened  them  since  the  death  of  Glafira  Petrovna. 
Everything  in  the  house  remained  as  it  had  been: 
the  small,  spindle-legged  couches  in  the  drawing- 
room,  covered  with  glossy  grey  material,  worn 
through  and  flattened  down,  vividly  recalled  the 
days  of  Katherine  II ;  in  the  drawing-room,  also, 
stood  the  mistress's  favourite  chair,  with  a  tall, 
straight  back,  against  which,  even  in  her  old  age, 
she  had  not  leaned.  On  the  principal  wall  hung 
an  ancient  portrait  of  Feodor's  great-grand- 
father, Andrei  Lavretzky;  the  dark,  sallow  face 
was  barely  discernible  against  the  warped  and 
blackened  background;  the  small,  vicious  eyes 

114 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

gazed  surlily  from  beneath  pendent,  swollen  lids ; 
the  black  hair,  devoid  of  powder,  rose  in  a  brush 
over  the  heavy,  deeply-seamed  brow.  On  the 
corner  of  the  portrait  hung  a  wreath  of  dusty 
immortelles.  "  Glafira  Petrovna  herself  was 
pleased  to  weave  it,"  announced  Anton.  In  the 
bedchamber  rose  a  narrow  bed,  under  a  tester 
of  ancient,  striped  material,  of  very  excellent 
quality;  a  mountain  of  faded  pillows,  and  a  thin 
quilted  coverlet,  lay  on  the  bed,  and  by  the  head 
of  the  bed  hung  an  image  of  the  Presentation 
in  the  Temple  of  the  All-Holy  Birthgiver  of 
God,  the  very  same  image  to  which  the  old 
spinster,  as  she  lay  dying  alone  and  forgotten 
by  every  one,  had  pressed  for  the  last  time,  her 
lips  which  were  already  growing  cold.  The 
toilet-table,  of  inlaid  wood  with  brass  trimmings 
and  a  crooked  mirror  with  tarnished  gilding, 
stood  by  the  window.  Alongside  the  bedroom 
was  the  room  for  the  holy  pictures,  a  tiny  cham- 
ber, with  bare  walls  and  a  heavy  shrine  of  images 
in  the  corner ;  on  the  floor  lay  a  small,  threadbare 
rug,  spotted  with  wax;  Glafira  Petrovna  had 
been  wont  to  make  her  prostrations  upon  it. 
Anton  went  off  with  Lavretzky's  lackey  to  open 
the  stable  and  carriage-house;  in  his  stead,  there 
presented  herself  an  old  woman,  almost  of  the 
same  age  as  he,  with  a  kerchief  bound  round  her 
head,  down  to  her  very  brows ;  her  head  trembled, 
and  her  eyes  gazed  dully,  but  expressed  zeal,  and 

115 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

a  long-established  habit  of  serving  with  assiduity, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  a  certain  respectful  com- 
miseration. She  kissed  Lavretzky's  hand,  and 
paused  at  the  door,  in  anticipation  of  orders.  He 
positively  was  unable  to  recall  her  name ;  he  could 
not  even  remember  whether  he  had  ever  seen  her. 
It  turned  out  that  her  name  was  Apraxyeya; 
forty  years  before,  that  same  Glafira  Petrovna 
had  banished  her  from  the  manor-house  service, 
and  had  ordered  her  to  attend  to  the  fowls ;  how- 
ever, she  said  little, — as  though  she  had  outlived 
her  mind, — and  only  looked  on  cringingly.  In 
addition  to  these  two  old  people,  and  three  pot- 
bellied brats  in  long  shirts,  Anton's  great-grand- 
children, there  dwelt  in  the  service-rooms  of  the 
manor  a  one-armed  little  old  peasant,  who  was 
exempt  from  compulsory  service;  he  made  a 
drumming  noise  like  a  woodcock  when  he  spoke, 
and  was  not  capable  of  doing  anything.  Not 
much  more  useful  than  he  was  the  decrepit  dog, 
who  had  welcomed  Lavretzky's  home-coming 
with  his  bark :  it  had  already  been  fastened  up  for 
ten  years  with  a  heavy  chain,  bought  by  order  of 
Glafira  Petrovna,  and  was  barely  in  a  condition 
to  move  and  drag  its  burden.  After  inspecting 
the  house,  Lavretzky  went  out  into  the  park, 
and  was  satisfied  with  it.  It  was  all  overgrown 
with  tall  grass,  burdock,  and  gooseberry  and  rasp- 
berry bushes;  but  there  was  much  shade  in  it: 
there  were  many  old  linden-trees,  which  surprised 

116 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

the  beholder  by  their  huge  size  and  the  strange 
arrangement  of  their  branches ;  they  had  been  too 
closely  planted,  and  at  some  time  or  other — a 
hundred  years  before — had  been  pollarded.  The 
park  ended  in  a  small,  clear  pond,  with  a  rim 
of  tall,  reddish  reeds.  The  traces  of  human  life 
fade  away  very  quickly :  Glaf ira  Petrovna's  farm 
had  not  succeeded  in  running  wild,  but  it  already 
seemed  plunged  in  that  tranquil  dream  where- 
with everything  on  earth  doth  dream,  where  the 
restless  infection  of  people  does  not  exist.  Feo- 
dor  Ivanitch  also  strolled  through  the  village ;  the 
women  stared  at  him  from  the  thresholds  of  their 
cottages,  each  with  her  cheek  propped  on  one 
hand ;  the  peasant  men  saluted  him  from  afar ;  the 
children  ran  away ;  the  dogs  barked  indifferently. 
At  last  he  felt  hungry,  but  he  did  not  expect  his 
servants  and  cook  until  toward  evening;  the  cart 
with  provisions  from  Lavriki  had  not  yet  arrived, 
— he  was  compelled  to  appeal  to  Anton.  Anton 
immediately  arranged  matters:  he  caught  an  old 
hen,  cut  its  throat,  and  plucked  it;  Apraxyeya 
rubbed  and  scrubbed  it  for  a  long  time,  and 
washed  it,  like  linen,  before  she  placed  it  in  the 
stew-pan ;  when,  at  last,  it  was  cooked,  Anton  put 
on  the  table-cloth  and  set  the  table,  placed  in 
front  of  the  plate  a  blackened  salt-cellar  of  plated 
ware  on  three  feet,  and  a  small  faceted  carafe 
with  a  round  glass  stopper  and  a  narrow  neck; 
then  he  announced  to  Lavretzky,  in  a  chanting 

117 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

voice,  that  the  meal  was  ready, — and  took  up  his 
post  behind  his  chair,  having  wound  a  napkin 
around  his  right  fist,  and  disseminating  some 
strong,  ancient  odour,  which  resembled  the  odour 
of  cypress  wood.  Lavretzky  tasted  the  soup,  and 
came  upon  the  hen;  its  skin  was  all  covered  with 
big  pimples,  a  thick  tendon  ran  down  each  leg,  its 
flesh  had  a  flavour  of  charcoal  and  lye.  When  he 
had  finished  his  dinner,  Lavretzky  said  that  he 

would  like  some  tea,  if "  This  very  moment, 

sir,  I  will  serve  it,  sir," — interrupted  the  old  man, 
— and  he  kept  his  promise.  A  pinch  of  tea  was 
hunted  up,  wrapped  in  a  scrap  of  red  paper,  a 
small  but  very  mettlesome  and  noisy  samovar  was 
searched  out,  also  sugar,  in  very  tiny  bits,  that 
seemed  to  have  been  melted  around  the  edges. 
Lavretzky  drank  his  tea  out  of  a  large  cup;  he 
remembered  that  cup  in  his  childhood:  playing- 
cards  were  depicted  on  it,  only  visitors  drank  out 
of  it, — and  he  now  drank  out  of  it,  like  a  visitor. 
Toward  evening,  his  servants  arrived;  La- 
vretzky did  not  wish  to  sleep  in  his  aunt's  bed; 
he  gave  orders  that  a  bed  should  be  made  up  for 
him  in  the  dining-room.  Extinguishing  the 
candle,  he  stared  about  him  for  a  long  time,  and 
meditated  on  cheerless  thoughts;  he  experienced 
the  sensation  familiar  to  every  man  who  chances 
to  pass  the  night,  for  the  first  time,  in  a  place 
which  has  long  been  uninhabited;  it  seemed  to 
him  that  the  darkness  which  surrounded  him  on 

118 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

all  sides  could  not  accustom  itself  to  the  new  in- 
habitant, that  the  very  walls  of  the  house  were 
waxing  indignant.  At  last  he  sighed,  drew  the 
coverlet  up  over  him,  and  fell  asleep.  Anton  re- 
mained afoot  longer  than  the  rest;  for  a  long 
time  he  whispered  with  Apraxyeya,  groaned  in 
a  low  tone,  and  crossed  himself  a  couple  of  times. 
Neither  of  them  expected  that  the  master  would 
settle  down  among  them  at  Vasilievskoe,  when, 
near  at  hand,  he  owned  such  a  magnificent  estate, 
with  a  capitally-organised  manor-house ;  they  did 
not  even  suspect  that  it  was  precisely  that  manor- 
house  which  was  repugnant  to  Lavretzky:  it 
evoked  in  him  oppressive  memories.  After  hav- 
ing whispered  his  fill,  Anton  took  his  staff,  and 
beat  upon  the  board  at  the  store-house  which  had 
long  been  hanging  silent,1  and  immediately  lay 
down  for  a  nap  in  the  yard,  without  covering  up 
his  grey  head  with  anything.  The  May  night 
was  tranquil  and  caressing — and  the  old  man 
slumbered  sweetly. 

1  It  is  the  duty  of  the  night-watchman  to  beat  upon  the  board  at 
regular  intervals,  to  show  that  he  is  vigilant. — Translator. 


119 


XX 

The  next  morning  Lavretzky  rose  quite  early, 
had  a  talk  with  the  overseer,  visited  the  threshing- 
floor,  ordered  the  chain  to  be  removed  from  the 
watch-dog,  who  only  barked  a  little,  but  did  not 
even  move  away  from  his  kennel; — and  on  his 
return  home,  sank  into  a  sort  of  peaceful  torpor, 
from  which  he  did  not  emerge  all  day.  '  I  have 
sunk  down  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  river  now," 
he  said  to  himself  more  than  once.  He  sat  by  the 
window,  made  no  movement,  and  seemed  to  be 
listening  to  the  current  of  tranquil  life  which  sur- 
rounded him,  to  the  infrequent  noises  of  the 
country  solitudes.  Yonder,  somewhere  beyond 
the  nettles,  some  one  began  to  sing,  in  the  shrillest 
of  voices;  a  gnat  seemed  to  be  chiming  in  with 
the  voice.  Now  it  ceased,  but  the  gnat  still 
squeaked  on;  athwart  the  energetic,  insistently- 
plaintive  buzzing  of  the  flies  resounded  the  boom- 
ing of  a  fat  bumble-bee,  which  kept  bumping  its 
head  against  the  ceiling ;  a  cock  on  the  road  began 
to  crow,  hoarsely  prolonging  the  last  note;  a 
peasant  cart  rumbled  past;  the  gate  toward  the 
village  creaked.  "  Well?  "  suddenly  quavered  a 
woman's  voice. — "Okh,  thou  my  dear  little  sweet- 

120 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

heart,"  said  Anton  to  a  little  girl  of  two  years, 
whom  he  was  dandling  in  his  arms.  "  Fetch 
some  kvas,"  repeats  the  same  female  voice, — and 
all  at  once  a  deathlike  silence  ensues;  nothing 
makes  any  noise,  nothing  stirs;  the  breeze  does 
not  flutter  a  leaf;  the  swallows  dart  along  near 
the  ground,  one  after  the  other,  without  a  cry,  and 
sadness  descends  upon  the  soul  from  their  silent 
flight. — "  Here  I  am,  sunk  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  river,"  Lavretzky  says  to  himself  again. — 
"  And  life  is  at  all  times  tranquil,  leisurely  here," 
he  thinks: — "whoever  enters  its  circle  must  be- 
come submissive:  here  there  is  nothing  to  agitate 
one's  self  about,  nothing  to  disturb;  here  success 
awaits  only  him  who  lays  out  his  path  without 
haste,  as  the  husbandman  lays  the  furrow  with  his 
plough."  And  what  strength  there  is  all  around, 
what  health  there  is  in  this  inactive  calm !  Yonder 
now,  under  the  window,  a  sturdy  burdock  is 
making  its  way  out  from  among  the  thick  grass; 
above  it,  the  lovage  is  stretching  forth  its  succu- 
lent stalk,  the  Virgin's-tears *  toss  still  higher 
their  rosy  tendrils;  and  yonder,  further  away,  in 
the  fields,  the  rye  is  gleaming,  and  the  oats  are 
beginning  to  shoot  up  their  stalks,  and  every  leaf 
on  every  tree,  every  blade  of  grass  on  its  stalk, 
spreads  itself  out  to  its  fullest  extent.  "  My  best 
years  have  been  spent  on  the  love  of  a  woman," 

1  This  plant  bears  round  seed -pods  of  mottled-grey,  which  are 
often  used  to  make  very  pretty  rosaries. — Translator. 

121 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Lavretzky  pursued  his  meditations: — "may  the 
irksomeness  here  sober  me,  may  it  soothe  me,  pre- 
pare me  so  that  I  may  understand  how  to  do  my 
work  without  haste  " ;  and  again  he  began  to  lend 
an  ear  to  the  silence,  expecting  nothing, — and,  at 
the  same  time,  as  it  were  incessantly  expecting 
something:  the  silence  enfolds  him  on  all  sides, 
the  sun  glides  quietly  across  the  calm  blue  sky, 
a  cloud  floats  gently  in  its  wake;  it  seems  as 
though  they  know  whither  and  why  they  are 
floating.  At  that  same  moment,  in  other  spots 
on  earth,  life  was  seething,  bustling,  roaring ;  here 
the  same  life  was  flowing  on  inaudibly,  like  water 
amid  marsh-grass;  and  until  the  very  evening, 
Lavretzky  could  not  tear  himself  from  the  con- 
templation of  that  life  fleeting,  flowing  onward; 
grief  for  the  past  melted  in  his  soul  like  snows 
of  springtime, — and,  strange  to  say! — never  had 
the  feeling  of  his  native  land  been  so  deep  and 
strong  within  him. 


122 


XXI 

In  the  course  of  a  fortnight,  Feodor  Ivanitch 
brought  Glaffra  Petrovna's  little  house  into  or- 
der ;  cleaned  up  the  yard,  the  garden ;  comfortable 
furniture  was  brought  to  him  from  Lavriki,  wine, 
books,  newspapers  from  the  town;  horses  made 
their  appearance  in  the  stables ;  in  a  word,  Feodor 
Ivanitch  provided  himself  with  everything  that 
was  necessary  and  began  to  live — not  exactly 
like  a  country  squire,  nor  yet  exactly  like  a  re- 
cluse. His  days  passed  monotonously,  but  he  was 
not  bored,  although  he  saw  no  one;  he  occupied 
himself  diligently  and  attentively  with  the  farm- 
ing operations,  he  rode  about  the  neighbourhood 
on  horseback,  he  read.  He  read  but  little,  how- 
ever: it  was  more  agreeable  for  him  to  listen  to 
the  tales  of  old  Anton.  As  a  rule,  Lavretzky 
would  seat  himself  with  a  pipe  of  tobacco  and 
a  cup  of  cold  tea  near  the  window ;  Anton  would 
stand  near  the  door,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind 
him,  and  begin  his  leisurely  stories  of  olden 
times, — of  those  fabulous  times — when  the  oats 
and  barley  were  sold  not  by  measures  but  by  huge 
sacks,  at  two  or  three  kopeks  the  sack ;  when  in  all 
directions,  even  close  to  the  town,  stretched  im- 

123 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

penetrable  forests,  untouched  steppes.  "  And 
now,"  wailed  the  old  man,  who  was  already  over 
eighty  years  of  age: — "they  have  felled  and 
ploughed  up  everything  until  there  is  no  place 
to  drive  through."  Anton,  also,  related  many 
things  concerning  his  mistress  Glafira  Petrovna: 
how  sagacious  and  economical  she  had  been ;  how 
a  certain  gentleman,  a  youthful  neighbour,  had 
attempted  to  gain  her  good-will,  had  taken  to 
calling  frequently, — and  how  she  had  been 
pleased,  for  his  benefit,  even  to  don  her  cap  with 
rose-purple  ribbons,  and  her  yellow  gown  of  tru- 
tru  levantine ;  but  how,  later  on,  having  flown  into 
a  rage  with  her  neighbour,  on  account  of  the 
unseemly  question:  "What  might  your  capital 
amount  to,  madam?"  she  had  given  orders  that 
he  should  not  be  admitted,  and  how  she  had  then 
commanded,  that  everything,  down  to  the  very 
smallest  scrap,  should  be  given  to  Feodor  Ivanitch 
after  her  death.  And,  in  fact,  Lavretzky  found 
all  his  aunt's  effects  intact,  not  excepting  the 
festival  cap,  with  the  rose-purple  ribbons,  and  the 
gown  of  yellow  tru-tru  levantine.  The  ancient 
papers  and  curious  documents,  which  Lavretzky 
had  counted  upon,  proved  not  to  exist,  with  the 
exception  of  one  tattered  little  old  book,  in  which 
his  grandfather,  Piotr  Andreitch,  had  jotted 
down,  now — "  Celebration  in  the  city  of  Saint 
Petersburg  of  the  peace  concluded  with  the  Turk- 
ish Empire  by  his  Illustriousness  Prince  Alexan- 

124 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

der  Alexandrovitch  Prozorovsky  " ;  now  a  recipe 
for  a  decoction  for  the  chest,  with  the  comment : 
"  This  instruction  was  given  to  Generaless  Pras- 
kovya  Feodorovna  Saltykoff,  by  Feodor  Avksen- 
tievitch,  Archpriest  of  the  Church  of  the  Life- 
giving  Trinity  " ;  again,  some  item  of  political 
news,  like  the  following:  "In  the  'Moscow 
News/  it  is  announced  that  Premier-Major  Mi- 
khail Petrovitch  Kolytcheff  has  died.  Was  not 
he  the  son  of  Piotr  Vasilievitch  Kolytcheff?  " 
Lavretzky  also  found  several  ancient  calendars 
and  dream-books,  and  the  mystical  works  of  Mr. 
Ambodik ;  many  memories  were  awakened  in  him 
by  the  long-forgotten  but  familiar  "  Symbols 
and  Emblems."  In  Glafira  Petrovna's  toilet- 
table  Lavretzky  found  a  small  packet,  tied  with 
black  ribbon,  and  sealed  with  black  wax,  thrust 
into  the  remotest  recesses  of  the  drawer.  In  the 
packet,  face  to  face,  lay  a  pastel  portrait  of  his 
father  in  his  youth,  with  soft  curls  tumbling  over 
his  brow,  with  long,  languid  eyes,  and  mouth 
half  opened, — and  the  almost  effaced  portrait  of 
a  pale  woman  in  a  white  gown,  with  a  white  rose 
in  her  hand, — his  mother.  Glafira  Petrovna  had 
never  permitted  her  own  portrait  to  be  made. — 
"  Dear  little  father  Feodor  Ivanitch," — Anton 
was  wont  to  say  to  Lavretzky: — "  although  I  did 
not  then  have  my  residence  in  the  manor-house 
of  the  masters,  yet  I  remember  your  great-grand- 
father, Andrei  Afanasievitch, — that  I  do;  I  was 

125 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

eighteen  years  of  age  when  he  died.  Once  I  met 
him  in  the  garden, — my  very  hamstrings  shook; 
but  he  did  nothing,  only  inquired  my  name, — 
and  sent  me  to  his  chamber  for  a  pocket-handker- 
chief. He  was  a  real  gentleman,  there  's  no  gain- 
saying that, — and  he  recognised  no  superior  over 
him.  For  I  must  inform  you,  that  your  great- 
grandfather had  a  wonderful  amulet, — a  monk 
from  Mount  Athos  gave  him  that  amulet.  And 
that  monk  said  to  him :  '  I  give  thee  this  for  thine 
affability,  Boyarin;  wear  it — and  fear  not  fate.' 
Well,  and  of  course,  dear  little  father,  you 
know,  what  sort  of  times  those  were;  what  the 
master  took  a  notion  to  do,  that  he  did.  Once 
in  a  while,  some  one,  even  one  of  the  gentry, 
would  take  it  into  his  head  to  thwart  him; 
but  no  sooner  did  he  look  at  him,  than  he  would 
say :  '  You  're  sailing  in  shoal  water  ' — that  was 
his  favourite  expression.  And  he  lived,  your 
great-grandfather  of  blessed  memory,  in  a  tiny 
wooden  mansion;  but  what  property  he  left  be- 
hind him,  what  silver,  and  all  sorts  of  supplies, — 
all  the  cellars  were  filled  to  the  brim !  He  was  a 
master.  That  little  carafe,  which  you  were 
pleased  to  praise, — belonged  to  him:  he  drank 
vodka  from  it.  And  then  your  grandfather, 
Piotr  Ivanitch,  built  himself  a  stone  mansion ;  but 
he  acquired  no  property;  with  him  everything 
went  at  sixes  and  sevens ;  and  he  lived  worse  than 
his  papa,  and  got  no  pleasure  for  himself, — but 

126 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

wasted  all  the  money,  and  there  was  none  to  pay 
for  requiems  for  his  soul ;  he  left  not  even  a  silver 
spoon  behind  him,  so  it  was  lucky  that  Glafira 
Petrovna  brought  things  into  order." 

"  And  is  it  true," — Lavretzky  interrupted  him, 
— "  that  she  was  called  an  ill-tempered  old  hag? ' 
'Why,  surely,  some  did  call  her  that!" — re- 
turned Anton,  in  displeasure. 

"  Well,  little  father," — the  old  man  one  day 
summoned  the  courage  to  ask ; — "  and  how  about 
our  young  mistress;  where  is  she  pleased  to  have 
her  residence?  " 

"  I  have  separated  from  my  wife," — said  La- 
vretzky, with  an  effort: — "  please  do  not  inquire 
about  her." 

"  I  obey,  sir," — replied  the  old  man,  sadly. 

After  the  lapse  of  three  weeks,  Lavretzky  rode 
into  O  *  *  *  on  horseback,  to  the  Kalitins',  and 
passed  the  evening  with  them.  Lemm  was  there ; 
Lavretzky  conceived  a  great  liking  for  him.  Al- 
though, thanks  to  his  father,  he  did  not  play  on 
any  instrument,  yet  he  was  passionately  fond  of 
music, — intelligent,  classical  music.  Panshin  was 
not  at  the  Kalitins'  that  evening.  The  Governor 
had  sent  him  off  somewhere,  out  of  town.  Liza 
played  alone,  and  with  great  precision;  Lemm 
grew  animated,  excited,  rolled  a  piece  of  paper 
into  a  baton,  and  beat  time.  Marya  Dmitrievna 
laughed,  at  first,  as  she  watched  him,  and  then 

127 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

went  off  to  bed;  as  she  said,  Beethoven  was  too 
agitating  for  her  nerves.  At  midnight,  La- 
vretzky escorted  Lemm  to  his  lodgings,  and  sat 
with  him  until  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Lemm  talked  a  great  deal;  his  bent  shoulders 
straightened  up,  his  eyes  opened  widely  and 
sparkled;  his  very  hair  stood  upright  above  his 
brow.  It  was  such  a  very  long  time  since  any 
one  had  taken  an  interest  in  him,  but  Lavretzky 
evidently  did  take  an  interest,  and  interrogated 
him  solicitously  and  attentively.  This  touched 
the  old  man;  he  ended  by  showing  his  visitor  his 
music,  he  even  played  and  sang  to  him,  with  his 
ghost  of  a  voice,  several  selections  from  his  com- 
positions,— among  others,  the  whole  of  Schiller's 
ballad  '  Fridolin,"  which  he  had  set  to  music. 
Lavretzky  lauded  it,  made  him  repeat  portions 
of  it,  and  invited  him  to  visit  him  for  a  few  days. 
Lemm,  who  was  escorting  him  to  the  street,  im- 
mediately accepted,  and  shook  his  hand  warmly; 
but  when  he  was  left  alone,  in  the  cool,  damp  air 
of  the  day  which  was  just  beginning  to  dawn, 
he  glanced  around  him,  screwed  up  his  eyes, 
writhed,  and  went  softly  to  his  tiny  chamber,  like 
a  guilty  creature:  "  Ich  bin  wohl  nicht  klug ' 
( I  'm  not  in  my  right  mind ) , — he  muttered,  as 
he  lay  down  on  his  hard,  short  bed.  He  tried  to 
assert  that  he  was  ill  when,  a  few  days  later,  La- 
vretzky came  for  him  in  a  calash;  but  Feodor 
Ivanitch  went  to  him,  in  his  room,  and  persuaded 

128 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

him.  The  circumstance  which  operated  most 
powerfully  of  all  on  Lemm  was,  that  Lavretzky 
had  ordered  a  piano  to  be  sent  to  his  country- 
house  from  the  town :  a  piano  for  his — Lemm's — 
use.  Together  they  went  to  the  Kalitins',  and 
spent  the  evening,  but  not  so  agreeably  as  on  the 
former  occasion.  Panshin  was  there,  had  a  great 
deal  to  narrate  about  his  journey,  and  very  amus- 
ingly mimicked  and  illustrated  in  action  the  coun- 
try squires  he  had  seen;  Lavretzky  laughed,  but 
Lemm  did  not  emerge  from  his  corner,  main- 
tained silence,  quietly  quivered  all  over  like  a 
spider,  looked  glum  and  dull,  and  grew  animated 
only  when  Lavretzky  began  to  take  his  leave. 
Even  when  he  was  seated  in  the  calash,  the  old 
man  continued  to  be  shy  and  to  fidget;  but  the 
quiet,  warm  air,  the  light  breeze,  the  delicate 
shadows,  the  perfume  of  the  grass,  of  the  birch 
buds,  the  peaceful  gleam  of  the  starry,  moonless 
heaven,  the  energetic  hoof -beats  and  snorting  of 
the  horses,  all  the  charms  of  the  road,  of  spring, 
of  night, — descended  into  the  heart  of  the  poor 
German,  and  he  himself  was  the  first  to  address 
Lavretzky. 


129 


XXII 

He  began  to  talk  of  music,  of  Liza,  then  again 
of  music.  He  seemed,  somehow,  to  utter  his 
words  more  slowly  when  he  spoke  of  Liza.  La- 
vretzky  turned  the  conversation  on  his  composi- 
tions, and,  half  in  jest,  proposed  to  write  a  libretto 
for  him. 

"  H'm,  a  libretto!" — rejoined  Lemm: — "no, 
that  is  beyond  me :  I  have  not  that  animation,  that 
play   of  fancy,   which   is   indispensable   for   an 

opera ;  I  have  already  lost  my  powers But 

if  I  could  still  do  something, — I  would  be  satis- 
fied with  a  romance ;  of  course,  I  should  like  some 
good  words.  .  .  ." 

He  relapsed  into  silence,  and  sat  for  a  long 
time  motionless,  with  his  eyes  raised  heavenward. 

"  For  example,"  he  said  at  last: — "  something 
of  this  sort : '  Ye  stars,  O  ye  pure  stars  '  ? '    ... 

Lavretzky  turned  his  face  slightly  toward  him 
and  began  to  stare  at  him. 

"  '  Ye  stars,  ye  pure  stars,'  " — repeated  Lemm. 
.  .  .  "  '  Ye  gaze  alike  upon  the  just  and  upon  the 
guilty  ....  but  only  the  innocent  of  heart,' — 
or  something  of  that  sort  .  .  .  '  understand  you,' 
that  is  to  say,  no, — '  love  you.'     However,  I  am 

130 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  a  poet  .  .  how  should  I  be !  But  something  in 
that  style,  something  lofty." 

Lemm  pushed  his  hat  back  on  the  nape  of  his 
neck ;  in  the  delicate  gloom  of  the  light  night,  his 
face  seemed  whiter  and  more  youthful. 

"  '  And  ye  also,'  " — he  went  on,  with  a  voice 
which  gradually  grew  quieter: — "  '  ye  know  who 
loves,  who  knows  how  to  love,  for  ye  are  pure, 
ye,  alone,  can  comfort.'  .  .  .  No,  that 's  not 
right  yet!  I  am  not  a  poet," — he  said: — "but 
something  of  that  sort.  ..." 

"  I  regret  that  I  am  not  a  poet," — remarked 
Lavretzky. 

"  Empty  visions!"  retorted  Lemm,  and  huddled 
in  the  corner  of  the  calash.  He  closed  his  eyes, 
as  though  preparing  to  go  to  sleep. 

Several  moments  elapsed.  .  .  .  Lavretzky  lis- 
tened. .  .  .  "'  Stars,  pure  stars,  love,'  " — the  old 
man  was  whispering. 

"  Love," — Lavretzky  repeated  to  himself,  be- 
came thoughtful,  and  his  soul  grew  heavy  within 
him. 

"  You  have  written  some  very  beautiful  music 
for  '  Fridolin,'  Christofor  Feodoritch," — he  said 
aloud: — "  and  what  think  you;  did  that  Fridolin, 
after  the  Count  had  led  him  to  his  wife,  become 
her  lover — hey?  " 

"  That  is  what  you  think," — returned  Lemm: 
"  because,  probably,  experience  .  .  .  .  "  He  sud- 
denly fell  silent,  and  turned  away  in  confusion. 

131 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Lavretzky  laughed  in  a  constrained  way,  turned 
away  also,  and  began  to  stare  along  the  road. 

The  stars  had  already  begun  to  pale,  and  the 
sky  was  grey,  when  the  calash  rolled  up  to  the 
porch  of  the  little  house  at  Vasilievskoe.  La- 
vretzky conducted  his  guest  to  the  chamber  which 
had  been  assigned  to  him,  returned  to  his  study, 
and  sat  down  by  the  window.  In  the  park,  a 
nightingale  was  singing  its  last  lay  before  the 
dawn.  Lavretzky  remembered  that  a  nightingale 
had  been  singing  in  the  Kalitins'  garden  also; 
he  recalled,  too,  the  tranquil  movement  of  Liza's 
eyes  when,  at  the  first  sounds  of  it,  they  had 
turned  toward  the  dark  window.  He  began  to 
think  of  her,  and  his  heart  grew  calm  within  him. 
"  Pure  little  star," — he  said  to  himself,  in  a  low 
tone: — "pure  stars," — he  added,  with  a  smile, 
and  calmly  lay  down  to  sleep. 

But  Lemm  sat,  for  a  long  time,  on  his  bed, 
with  a  book  of  music-paper  on  his  knees.  It 
seemed  as  though  a  strange,  sweet  melody  were 
about  to  visit  him:  he  was  already  burning  and 
growing  agitated,  he  already  felt  the  lassitude 
and  sweetness  of  its  approach  .  .  .  but  it  did 
not  come. 

"  I  am  not  a  poet,  and  not  a  musician! " — he 
whispered  at  last 

And  his  weary  head  sank  back  heavily  on  the 
pillow. 


132 


XXIII 

On  the  following  morning,  host  and  guest  drank 
tea  in  the  garden,  under  an  ancient  linden-tree. 

"Maestro!" — said  Lavretsky,  among  other 
things: — "  you  will  soon  have  to  compose  a  tri- 
umphal cantata." 

"  On  what  occasion?  " 

"  On  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Mr. 
Panshin  to  Liza.  Did  you  notice  how  he  was 
paying  court  to  her  last  evening?  It  seems  as 
though  everything  were  going  smoothly  with 
them." 

"  That  shall  not  be! "  exclaimed  Lemm. 

"  Why  not? " 

"  Because  it  is  impossible.  However," — he 
added,  after  a  pause: — "everything  is  possible 
in  this  world.  Especially  here,  with  you,  in 
Russia." 

"  Let  us  leave  Russia  out  of  the  question  for 
the  present ;  but  what  evil  do  you  see  in  that  mar- 
nage (. 

"  All  is  evil,  all.  Lizaveta  Mikhaflovna  is  an 
upright,  serious  maiden,  with  exalted  senti- 
ments,— but  he he  is  a  di-let-tante,  in 

one  word." 

133 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"But  surely  she  loves  him?  " 

Lemm  rose  from  the  bench. 

"  No,  she  does  not  love  him,  that  is  to  say,  she 
is  very  pure  in  heart,  and  does  not  know  herself 
what  '  love '  means.  Madam  von  Kalftin  tells 
her,  that  he  is  a  nice  young  man,  and  she  listens 
to  Madam  von  Kalitin,  because  she  is  still  a 
perfect  child,  although  she  is  nineteen  years  of 
age:  she  says  her  prayers  in  the  morning,  she 
says  her  prayers  in  the  evening, — and  that  is  very 
praiseworthy;  but  she  does  not  love  him.  She 
can  love  only  the  fine,  but  he  is  not  fine;  that  is, 
his  soul  is  not  fine." 

Lemm  uttered  this  whole  speech  coherently 
and  with  fervour,  pacing  back  and  forth,  with 
short  strides,  in  front  of  the  tea-table,  and  with 
his  eyes  flitting  over  the  ground. 

"My  dearest  Maestro!" — exclaimed  Lavret- 
zky  all  at  once : — "  it  strikes  me,  that  you  are  in 
love  with  my  cousin  yourself." 

Lemm  came  to  a  sudden  halt. 

"  Please," — he  began  in  an  uncertain  voice: — 
"  do  not  jest  thus  with  me.     I  am  not  a  lunatic." 

Lavretzky  felt  sorry  for  the  old  man;  he  en- 
treated his  forgiveness.  After  tea,  Lemm 
played  him  his  cantata,  and  at  dinner,  being 
instigated  thereto  by  Lavretzky  himself,  he 
again  began  to  talk  about  Liza.  Lavretzky  lis- 
tened to  him  with  attention  and  curiosity. 

"  What  think  you,  Christof  or  Feodoritch," — 

134 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

he  said  at  last — "  everything  appears  to  be  in 
order  with  us  now,  the  garden  is  in  full  bloom. 
....  Shall  not  we  invite  her  here  for  the  day, 
together  with  her  mother  and  my  old  aunt, — 
hey?   Would  that  be  agreeable  to  you? " 

Lemm  bent  his  head  over  his  plate. 

"  Invite  her," — he  said,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  And  Panshin  need  not  be  asked? ' 

"  He  need  not," — replied  the  old  man,  with  a 
half -childlike  smile. 

Two  days  later,  Feodor  Ivanitch  set  out  for 
the  town,  to  the  Kalitins. 


135 


XXIV 

He  found  them  all  at  home,  but  he  did  not  im- 
mediately announce  to  them  his  intention:  he 
wished,  first,  to  have  a  talk  alone  with  Liza. 
Chance  aided  him:  they  were  left  alone  together 
in  the  drawing-room.  They  fell  into  conversa- 
tion :  she  had  succeeded  in  getting  used  to  him, — 
and,  in  general,  she  was  not  shy  of  any  one.  He 
listened  to  her,  looked  her  straight  in  the  face, 
and  mentally  repeated  Lemm's  words,  and 
agreed  with  him.  It  sometimes  happens,  that 
two  persons  who  are  already  acquainted,  but  not 
intimate,  suddenly  and  swiftly  draw  near  to  each 
other  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes, — and  the 
consciousness  of  this  approach  is  immediately  re- 
flected in  their  glances,  in  their  friendly,  quiet 
smiles,  in  their  very  movements.  Precisely  this 
is  what  took  place  with  Lavretzky  and  Liza. 
"  So  that 's  what  he  is  like,"  she  thought,  gazing 
caressingly  at  him;  "so  that's  what  thou  art 
like,"  he  said  to  himself  also.  And  therefore, 
he  was  not  greatly  surprised  when  she,  not  with- 
out a  slight  hesitation,  however,  announced  to 
him,  that  she  had  long  had  it  in  her  heart  to  say 
something  to  him,  but  had  been  afraid  of  annoy- 
ing him. 

130 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

'Have  no  fear;  speak  out," — he  said,  and 
halted  in  front  of  her. 

Liza  raised  her  clear  eyes  to  his. 

"  You  are  so  kind," — she  began,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  she  said  to  herself: — "  '  yes,  he  really 
is  kind  '  .  .  .  you  will  pardon  me,  but  I  ought 
not  to  speak  of  this  to  you  ....  but  how  could 
you  . . .  why  did  you  separate  from  your  wife?  " 

Lavretzky  shuddered,  glanced  at  Liza,  and 
seated  himself  beside  her. 

1  My  child,"  he  began, — "  please  do  not  touch 
that  wound ;  your  hands  are  tender,  but  neverthe- 
less I  shall  suffer  pain." 

'  I  know," — went  on  Liza,  as  though  she  had 
not  heard  him: — "  she  is  culpable  toward  you,  I 
do  not  wish  to  defend  her;  but  how  is  it  possible 
to  put  asunder  that  which  God  has  joined  to- 
gether? " 

'  Our  convictions  on  that  point  are  too  dis- 
similar, Lizaveta  Mikhailovna," — said  Lavret- 
zky, rather  sharply; — "we  shall  not  understand 
each  other." 

Liza  turned  pale;  her  whole  body  quivered 
slightly ;  but  she  did  not  hold  her  peace. 

"You  ought  to  forgive," — she  said  softly: — 
"  if  you  wish  to  be  forgiven." 

'Forgive!" — Lavretzky    caught    her    up: — 

'  Ought  not  you  first  to  know  for  whom  you  are 

pleading?     Forgive  that  woman,  take  her  back 

into  my  house, — her, — that  empty,  heartless  crea- 

137 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

ture!  And  who  has  told  you,  that  she  wishes  to 
return  to  me?  Good  heavens,  she  is  entirely  sat- 
isfied with  her  position But  what  is  the 

use  of  talking  about  it!  Her  name  ought  not  to 
be  uttered  by  you.  You  are  too  pure,  you  are 
not  even  in  a  position  to  understand  what  sort  of 
a  being  she  is." 

'  Why  vilify  her?  " — said  Liza,  with  an  effort. 
The  trembling  of  her  hands  became  visible.  "  It 
was  you  yourself  who  abandoned  her,  Feodor 
Ivanitch." 

"  But  I  tell  you," — retorted  Lavretzky,  with 
an  involuntary  outburst  of  impatience: — "that 
you  do  not  know  what  sort  of  a  creature 
she  is!  " 

"  Then  why  did  you  marry  her?  " — whispered 
Liza,  and  dropped  her  eyes. 

Lavretzky  sprang  up  hastily  from  his  seat. 
'  Why  did  I  marry?  I  was  young  and  inex- 
perienced then;  I  was  deceived,  I  was  carried 
away  by  a  beautiful  exterior.  I  did  not  know 
women,  I  did  not  know  anything.  God  grant 
that  you  may  make  a  happier  marriage !  But,  be- 
lieve me,  it  is  impossible  to  vouch  for  anything." 

"  And  I  may  be  just  as  unhappy," — said  Liza 
(her  voice  began  to  break)  :  "  but,  in  that  case, 
I  must  submit;  I  do  not  know  how  to  talk,  but 
if  we  do  not  submit  ..." 

Lavretzky  clenched  his  fists  and  stamped  his 
foot. 

138 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"Be  not  angry;  forgive  me!" — ejaculated 
Liza,  hastily. 

At  that  moment,  Marya  Dmitrievna  entered. 
Liza  rose,  and  started  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Stop!  "  —  Lavretzky  unexpectedly  called 
after  her.  "  I  have  a  great  favour  to  ask  of  your 
mother  and  of  you:  make  me  a  visit  to  celebrate 
my  new  home.  You  know,  I  have  set  up  a  piano ; 
Lemm  is  staying  with  me;  the  lilacs  are  now  in 
bloom;  you  will  get  a  breath  of  the  country 
air,  and  can  return  the  same  day, — do  you 
accept? " 

Liza  glanced  at  her  mother,  and  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna assumed  an  air  of  suffering,  but  Lavret- 
zky, without  giving  her  a  chance  to  open  her 
mouth,  instantly  kissed  both  her  hands.  Marya 
Dmitrievna,  who  was  always  susceptible  to  en- 
dearments, and  had  not  expected  such  amiability 
from  "  the  dolt,"  was  touched  to  the  soul,  and 
consented.  While  she  was  considering  what  day 
to  appoint,  Lavretzky  approached  Liza,  and,  still 
greatly  agitated,  furtively  whispered  to  her: 
'  Thank  you,  you  are  a  good  girl,  I  am  to  blame." 
....  And  her  pale  face  flushed  crimson  with  a 
cheerful — bashful  smile;  her  eyes  also  smiled, — 
up  to  that  moment,  she  had  been  afraid  that  she 
had  offended  him. 

'  May  Vladimir  Nikolaitch  go  with  us?" — 
asked  Marya  Dmitrievna. 

"  Certainly," — responded     Lavretzky: — "but 

139 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

would  it  not  be  better  if  we  confined  ourselves 
to  our  own  family  circle? " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  but  you  see  .  .  .  ."  Mary  a 
Dmitrievna  began.  "  However,  as  you  like," 
she  added. 

It  was  decided  to  take  Lyenotchka  and  Schii- 
rotchka.  Marfa  Timofeevna  declined  to  make 
the  journey. 

'  It  is  too  hard  for  me,  my  dear," — she  said, — 
"  my  old  bones  ache:  and  I  am  sure  there  is  no 
place  at  your  house  where  I  can  spend  the  night ; 
and  I  cannot  sleep  in  a  strange  bed.  Let  these 
young  people  do  the  gallivanting." 

Lavretzky  did  not  succeed  in  being  alone 
again  with  Liza;  but  he  looked  at  her  in  such  a 
way,  that  she  felt  at  ease,  and  rather  ashamed, 
and  sorry  for  him.  On  taking  leave  of  her,  he 
pressed  her  hand  warmly;  when  she  was  left 
alone,  she  fell  into  thought. 


140 


XXV 

When  Lavretzky  reached  home,  he  was  met  on 
the  threshold  of  the  drawing-room  by  a  tall,  thin 
man,  in  a  threadbare  blue  coat,  with  frowzy  grey 
side-whiskers,  a  long,  straight  nose,  and  small, 
inflamed  eyes.  This  was  Mikhalevitch,  his 
former  comrade  at  the  university.  Lavretzky 
did  not  recognise  him  at  first,  but  embraced  him 
warmly  as  soon  as  he  mentioned  his  name.  They 
had  not  seen  each  other  since  the  Moscow  days. 
There  was  a  shower  of  exclamations,  of  ques- 
tions; long-smothered  memories  came  forth  into 
the  light  of  day.  Hurriedly  smoking  pipe  after 
pipe,  drinking  down  tea  in  gulps,  and  flour- 
ishing his  long  arms,  Mikhalevitch  narrated  his 
adventures  to  Lavretzky ;  there  was  nothing  very 
cheerful  about  them,  he  could  not  boast  of  success 
in  his  enterprises, — but  he  laughed  incessantly, 
with  a  hoarse,  nervous  laugh.  A  month  pre- 
viously, he  had  obtained  a  situation  in  the  private 
counting-house  of  a  wealthy  distiller,  about  three 
hundred  versts  from  the  town  of  O  *  *  *,  and, 
on  learning  of  Lavretzky's  return  from  abroad, 
he  had  turned  aside  from  his  road,  in  order  to  see 

141 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

his  old  friend.  Mikhalevitch  talked  as  abruptly 
as  in  his  younger  days,  was  as  noisy  and  effer- 
vescent as  ever.  Lavretzky  was  about  to  allude 
to  his  circumstances,  but  Mikhalevitch  inter- 
rupted him,  hastily  muttering :  "  I  've  heard, 
brother,  I  've  heard  about  it, — who  could  have 
anticipated  it?  " — and  immediately  turned  the 
conversation  into  the  region  of  general  com- 
ments. 

'I,  brother," — he  said: — "must  leave  thee 
to-morrow;  to-day,  thou  must  excuse  me — we 
will  go  to  bed  late — I  positively  must  find  out 
what  are  thy  opinions,  convictions,  what  sort  of 
a  person  thou  hast  become,  what  life  has  taught 
thee."  (Mikhalevitch  still  retained  the  phrase- 
ology of  the  '30s.)  "  So  far  as  I  myself  am  con- 
cerned, I  have  changed  in  many  respects,  bro- 
ther: the  billows  of  life  have  fallen  upon  my 
breast, — who  the  dickens  was  it  that  said  that? — 
although,  in  important,  essential  points,  I  have 
not  changed;  I  believe,  as  of  yore,  in  the  good, 
in  the  truth;  but  I  not  only  believe, — I  am  now 
a  believer,  yes — I  am  a  believer,  a  religious  be- 
liever. Hearken,  thou  knowest  that  I  write 
verses;  there  is  no  poetry  in  them,  but  there  is 
truth.  I  will  recite  to  thee  my  last  piece:  in  it  I 
have  given  expression  to  my  most  sincere  convic- 
tions. Listen." — Mikhalevitch  began  to  recite  a 
poem;  it  was  rather  long,  and  wound  up  with 
the  following  lines: 

142 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  To  new  feeling  I  have  surrendered  myself  with  all 
my  heart, 
I  have  become  like  a  child  in  soul: 
And  I  have  burned  all  that  I  worshipped. 
I  have  worshipped  all  that  I  burned." 

As  he  declaimed  these  last  two  lines,  Mikha- 
levitch  was  on  the  verge  of  tears;  slight  convul- 
sive twitchings,  the  signs  of  deep  feeling — flitted 
across  his  broad  lips,  his  ugly  face  lighted  up. 
Lavretzky  listened  and  listened  to  him ;  the  spirit 
of  contradiction  began  to  stir  within  him:  the 
ever-ready,  incessantly-seething  enthusiasm  of 
the  Moscow  student  irritated  him.  A  quarter 
of  an  hour  had  not  elapsed,  before  a  dispute 
flared  up  between  them,  one  of  those  intermina- 
ble disputes,  of  which  only  Russians  are  capable. 
After  a  separation  of  many  years'  duration, 
spent  in  two  widely-different  spheres,  under- 
standing clearly  neither  other  people's  thoughts 
nor  their  own, — cavilling  at  words  and  retorting 
with  mere  words,  they  argued  about  the  most  ab- 
stract subjects, — and  argued  as  though  it  were 
a  matter  of  life  and  death  to  both  of  them :  they 
shouted  and  yelled  so,  that  all  the  people  in  the 
house  took  fright,  and  poor  Lemm,  who,  from 
the  moment  of  Mikhalevitch's  arrival,  had  locked 
himself  up  in  his  room,  became  bewildered,  and 
began,  in  a  confused  way,  to  be  afraid. 

"But  what  art  thou  after  this?  disillusioned?  " 

143 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

— shouted  Mikhalevitch  at  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning. 

"  Are  there  any  such  disillusioned  people?  " — 
retorted  Lavretzky: — "  they  are  all  poor  and  ill, 
— and  I  '11  pick  thee  up  with  one  hand,  shall  I  ? ' 

"  Well,  if  not  a  disillusioned  man,  then  a  scep- 
tuikj  and  that  is  still  worse."  (Mikhalevitch's 
pronunciation  still  smacked  of  his  native  Little 
Russia.)  "And  what  right  hast  thou  to  be  a 
sceptic?  Thou  hast  had  bad  luck  in  life,  granted; 
that  was  no  fault  of  thine:  thou  wert  born  with 
a  passionate,  loving  soul,  and  thou  wert  forcibly 
kept  away  from  women:  the  first  woman  that 
came  in  thy  way  was  bound  to  deceive  thee." 

"  And  she  did  deceive  me," — remarked  La- 
vretzky, gloomily. 

"  Granted,  granted ;  I  was  the  instrument  of 
fate  there, — »but  what  nonsense  am  I  talking? — 
there  's  no  fate  about  it ;  it 's  merely  an  old  habit 
of  expressing  myself  inaccurately.  But  what 
does  that  prove? " 

"  It  proves,  that  they  dislocated  me  in  my 
childhood." 

"  But  set  thy  joints!  to  that  end  thou  art  a 
human  being,  a  man;  thou  hast  no  need  to  borrow 
energy!  But,  at  any  rate,  is  it  possible,  is  it  per- 
missible, to  erect  a  private  fact,  so  to  speak,  into 
a  general  law,  into  an  immutable  law?  ' 

"  Where  is  the  rule? " — interrupted  Lavret- 
zky,— "  I  do  not  admit  .  . 

144 


»5 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Yes,  it  is  thy  rule,  thy  rule,"  Mikhalevitch 
interrupted  him  in  his  turn.  .  .  . 

"  Thou  art  an  egoist,  that 's  what  thou  art! ' 
— he  thundered,  an  hour  later: — "  thou  hast  de- 
sired thine  own  personal  enjoyment,  thou  hast 
desired  happiness  in  life,  thou  hast  desired  to  live 
for  thyself  alone.  ..." 

"  What  dost  thou  mean  by  personal  enjoy- 
ment?" 

"And  everything  has  deceived  thee;  every- 
thing has  crumbled  away  beneath  thy  feet." 

"  What  is  personal  enjoyment, — I  ask  thee? ' 

"  And  it  was  bound  to  crumble.  For  thou 
hast  sought  support  where  it  was  not  to  be  found, 
for  thou  hast  built  thy  house  on  a  quicksand.  .  ." 

"  Speak  more  plainly,  without  metaphors,  be- 
cause I  do  not  understand  thee." 

"  Because, — laugh  if  it  pleases  thee, — because 
there  is  no  faith  in  thee,  no  warmth  of  heart; 
mind,  merely  a  farthing  mind;  thou  art  simply 
a  pitiful,  lagging  Voltairian — that 's  what  thou 
art!" 

Who — I  am  a  Voltairian?  " 
Yes,  just  the  same  sort  as  thy  father  was, 
and  dost  not  suspect  it  thyself." 

"After  that,"— cried  Lavretzky  — "  I  have 
a  right  to  say  that  thou  art  a  fanatic! ': 

"  Alas!  " — returned  Mikhalevitch,  with  contri- 
tion:— "unhappily,  as  yet  I  have  in  no  way 
earned  so  lofty  an  appellation.  .  ." 

145 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Now  I  have  discovered  what  to  call  thee," — ■ 
shouted  this  same  Mikhalevitch,  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning; — "  thou  art  not  a  sceptic,  not  a 
disillusioned  man,  not  a  Voltairian, — thou  art  a 
trifler,  and  thou  art  an  evil-minded  trifler,  a  con- 
scious trifler,  not  an  ingenuous  trifler.  Ingenuous 
triflers  lie  around  on  the  oven  and  do  nothing, 
because  they  do  not  know  how  to  do  anything; 
and  they  think  of  nothing.  But  thou  art  a 
thinking  man, — and  thou  liest  around;  thou 
mightest  do  something — and  thou  dost  nothing; 
thou  liest  with  thy  well-fed  belly  upward  and 
sayest:  '  It  is  proper  to  lie  thus,  because  every- 
thing that  men  do  is  nonsense,  and  twaddle  which 
leads  to  nothing.'  " 

"  But  what  makes  thee  think  that  I  trifle," — 
insisted  Lavretzky: — "why  dost  thou  assume 
such  thoughts  on  my  part?  " 

"  And  more  than  that,  all  of  you,  all  the  people 
of  your  sort," — pursued  the  obstreperous  Mikha- 
levitch:— "are  erudite  triflers.  You  know  on 
what  foot  the  German  limps,  you  know  what  is 
bad  about  the  English  and  the  French, — and  your 
knowledge  comes  to  your  assistance,  justifies  your 
shameful  laziness,  your  disgusting  inactivity. 
Some  men  will  even  pride  themselves,  and  say, 
'  What  a  clever  fellow  I  am ! — I  lie  around,  but 
the  others,  the  fools,  bustle  about.'  Yes! — And 
there  are  such  gentlemen  among  us, — I  am  not 
saying  this  with  reference  to  thee,  however,— 

146 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

who  pass  their  whole  lives  in  a  sort  of  stupor  of 
tedium,  grow  accustomed  to  it,  sit  in  it  like  .... 
like  a  mushroom  in  sour  cream,"  Mikhalevitch 
caught  himself  up,  and  burst  out  laughing  at  his 
own  comparison. — "  Oh,  that  stupor  of  tedium 
is  the  ruin  of  the  Russians !  The  repulsive  trifler, 
all  his  life  long,  is  getting  ready  to  work " 

"  Come,  what  art  thou  calling  names  for? " — 
roared  Lavretzkv,  in  his  turn. — "  Work  .  .  . 
act .  .  .  Tell  me,  rather,  what  to  do,  but  don't  call 
names,  you  Poltava  Demosthenes!  " 

"  Just  see  what  a  freak  he  has  taken!  I  '11  not 
tell  thee  that,  brother ;  every  one  must  know  that 
himself,"  retorted  Demosthenes,  ironically. — "  A 
landed  proprietor,  a  nobleman — and  he  does  n't 
know  what  to  do!  Thou  hast  no  faith,  or  thou 
wouldst  know;  thou  hast  no  faith — and  there  is 
no  revelation." 

"  Give  me  a  rest,  at  any  rate,  you  devil:  give 
me  a  chance  to  look  around  me," — entreated 
Lavretzky. 

"  Not  a  minute,  not  a  second  of  respite ! " — 
retorted  Mikhalevitch,  with  an  imperious  gesture 
of  the  hand. — "Not  one  second! — Death  does 
not  wait,  and  life  ought  not  to  wait."  .  .  . 

'  And  when,  where  did  men  get  the  idea  of 
becoming  triflers?  " — he  shouted,  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  but  his  voice  had  now  begun  to 
be  rather  hoarse:  "among  us!  now!  in  Russia! 
when  on  every  separate  individual  a  duty,  a  great 

147 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

obligation  is  incumbent  toward  God,  toward  the 
nation,  toward  himself!  We  are  sleeping,  but 
time  is  passing  on;  we  are  sleeping.  .  .  ." 

"  Permit  me  to  observe  to  thee," — said  La- 
vretzky,— "  that  we  are  not  sleeping  at  all,  now, 
but  are,  rather,  preventing  others  from  sleeping. 
We  are  cracking  our  throats  like  cocks.  Hark, 
is  n't  that  the  third  cock-crow?  " 

This  sally  disconcerted  and  calmed  down 
Mikhalevitch.  "  Farewell  until  to-morrow," — 
he  said,  with  a  smile, — and  thrust  his  pipe  into 
his  tobacco-pouch.  "  Farewell  until  to-morrow," 
repeated  Lavretzky.  But  the  friends  conversed 
for  an  hour  longer.  However,  their  voices  were 
no  longer  raised,  and  their  speeches  were  quiet, 
sad,  and  kind. 

Mikhalevitch  departed  on  the  following  day, 
in  spite  of  all  Lavretzky's  efforts  to  detain  him. 
Feodor  Ivanitch  did  not  succeed  in  persuading 
him  to  remain;  but  he  talked  with  him  to  his 
heart's  content.  It  came  out,  that  Mikhalevitch 
had  not  a  penny  in  the  world.  Already,  on  the 
preceding  evening,  Lavretzky,  with  compassion, 
had  observed  in  him  all  the  signs  and  habits  of 
confirmed  poverty;  his  boots  were  broken,  a  but- 
ton was  missing  from  the  back  of  his  coat,  his 
hands  were  guiltless  of  gloves,  down  was  visible 
in  his  hair;  on  his  arrival,  it  had  not  occurred  to 
him  to  ask  for  washing  materials,  and  at  supper 
he  ate  like  a  shark  tearing  the  meat  apart  with 

148 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

his  hands,  and  cracking  the  bones  noisily  with 
his  strong,  black  teeth.  It  appeared,  also,  that 
the  service  had  been  of  no  benefit  to  him,  that  he 
had  staked  all  his  hopes  on  the  revenue-farmer, 
who  had  engaged  him  simply  with  the  object  of 
having  in  his  counting-house  "  an  educated  man." 
In  spite  of  all  this,  Mikhalevitch  was  not  de- 
jected, and  lived  on  as  a  cynic,  an  idealist,  a  poet, 
sincerely  rejoicing  and  grieving  over  the  lot  of 
mankind,  over  his  own  calling, — and  troubled 
himself  very  little  as  to  how  he  was  to  keep  him- 
self from  dying  with  hunger.  Mikhalevitch  had 
not  married,  but  had  been  in  love  times  without 
number,  and  wrote  verses  about  all  his  lady-loves ; 
with  especial  fervour  did  he  sing  the  praises  of 
one  mysterious  "  panna  "*  with  black  and  curling 
locks.  .  .  .  Rumours  were  in  circulation,  it  is  true, 
to  the  effect  that  the  "  panna  "  in  question  was  a 
plain  Jewess,  well  known  to  many  cavalry  offi- 
cers .  .  .  but,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it, — 
does  that  make  any  difference? 

Mikhalevitch  did  not  get  on  well  with  Lemm: 
his  vociferous  speeches,  his  harsh  manners,  fright- 
ened the  German,  who  was  not  used  to  such 
things.  .  .  An  unfortunate  wretch  always  scents 
another  unfortunate  wretch  from  afar,  but 
rarely  makes  up  to  him  in  old  age, — and  this  is 
not  in  the  least  to  be  wondered  at :  he  has  nothing 
to  share  with  him, — not  even  hopes. 

1  Polish  for  "  gentlewoman." — Translator. 

149 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Before  his  departure,  Mikhalevitch  had  an- 
other long  talk  with  Lavretzky,  prophesied  per- 
dition to  him,  if  he  did  not  come  to  a  sense  of  his 
errors,  entreated  him  to  occupy  himself  seriously 
with  the  existence  of  his  peasants,  set  himself  up 
as  an  example,  saying,  that  he  had  been  purified 
in  the  furnace  of  affliction, — and  immediately 
thereafter,  several  times  mentioned  himself  as  a 
happy  man,  compared  himself  to  the  birds  of 
heaven,  the  lilies  of  the  field " 

"  A  black  lily,  at  any  rate," — remarked  La- 
vretzky. 

"  Eh,  brother,  don't  put  on  any  of  your 
aristocratic  airs," — retorted  Mikhalevitch,  good- 
naturedly: — "  but  thank  God,  rather,  that  in  thy 
veins  flows  honest,  plebeian  blood.  But  I  per- 
ceive, that  thou  art  now  in  need  of  some  pure, 
unearthly  being,  who  shall  wrest  thee  from  this 
apathy  of  thine." 

"Thanks,  brother," — said  Lavretzky: — "I 
have  had  enough  of  those  unearthly  beings." 

'  Shut  up,  cuinuik! " — exclaimed  Mikhale- 
vitch. 

'  Cynic," — Lavretzky  corrected  him. ' 

"  Just  so,  cuinuik'' — repeated  Mikhalevitch, 
in  no  wise  disconcerted. 

Even  as  he  took  his  seat  in  the  tarantas,  to 
which  his  flat,  yellow,  strangely  light  trunk  was 
carried  forth,  he  continued  to  talk;  wrapped  up 
in  some  sort  of  a  Spanish  cloak  with  a  rusty  col- 

150 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

lar,  and  lion's  paws  in  place  of  clasps,  he  still 
went  on  setting  forth  his  views  as  to  the  fate  of 
Russia,  and  waving  his  swarthy  hand  through 
the  air,  as  though  he  were  sowing  the  seeds  of  its 
future  welfare.  At  last  the  horses  started.  .  .  . 
"  Bear  in  mind  my  last  three  words," — he 
shouted,  thrusting  his  whole  body  out  of  the  ta- 
rantas,  and  balancing  himself: — "  religion,  prog- 
ress, humanity! ....  Farewell!  "  His  head,  with 
its  cap  pulled  down  to  the  very  eyes,  vanished. 
Lavretzky  remained  standing  alone  on  the  porch 
and  staring  down  the  road  until  the  tarantas  dis- 
appeared from  his  sight.  "  But  I  think  he 
probably  is  right," — he  said  to  himself,  as  he  re- 
entered the  house: — "probably  I  am  a  trifler." 
Many  of  Mikhalevitch's  words  had  sunk  indelibly 
into  his  soul,  although  he  had  disputed  and  had 
not  agreed  with  him.  If  only  a  man  be  kindly,  no 
one  can  repulse  him. 


151 


XXVI 

Two  days  later,  Marya  Dmitrievna  arrived  with 
all  her  young  people  at  Vasilievskoe,  in  accord- 
ance with  her  promise.  The  little  girls  imme- 
diately ran  out  into  the  garden,  while  Marya 
Dmitrievna  languidly  traversed  the  rooms,  and 
languidly  praised  everything.  Her  visit  to  La- 
vretzky  she  regarded  as  a  token  of  great  con- 
descension, almost  in  the  light  of  a  good  deed. 
She  smiled  affably  when  Anton  and  Apraxyeya, 
after  the  ancient  custom  of  house-serfs,  came 
to  kiss  her  hand, — and  in  an  enervated  voice, 
through  her  nose,  she  asked  them  to  give  her  some 
tea.  To  the  great  vexation  of  Anton,  who  had 
donned  white  knitted  gloves,  the  newly-arrived 
lady  was  served  with  tea  not  by  him,  but  by  La- 
vretzky's  hired  valet,  who,  according  to  the  as- 
sertion of  the  old  man,  knew  nothing  whatever 
about  proper  forms.  On  the  other  hand,  Anton 
reasserted  his  rights  at  dinner:  firm  as  a  post  he 
stood  behind  Marya  Dmitrievna's  chair — and 
yielded  his  place  to  no  one.  The  long-unpre- 
cedented arrival  of  visitors  at  Vasilievskoe  both 
agitated  and  rejoiced  the  old  man:  it  pleased  him 
to  see,  that  his  master  knew  nice  people.    How- 

152 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

ever,  he  was  not  the  only  one  who  was  excited 
on  that  day:  Lemm,  also,  was  excited.  He  put 
on  a  short,  snuff-coloured  frock-coat,  with  a 
sharp-pointed  collar,  bound  his  neckerchief 
tightly,  and  incessantly  coughed  and  stepped 
aside,  with  an  agreeable  and  courteous  mien.  La- 
vretzky  noted,  with  satisfaction,  that  the  close 
relations  between  himself  and  Liza  still  contin- 
ued :  no  sooner  did  she  enter,  than  she  offered  him 
her  hand,  in  friendly  wise.  After  dinner,  Lemm 
drew  forth,  from  the  back  pocket  of  his  coat,  into 
which  he  had  been  constantly  thrusting  his  hand, 
a  small  roll  of  music,  and  pursing  up  his  lips,  he 
silently  laid  it  on  the  piano.  It  was  a  romance, 
which  he  had  composed  on  the  preceding  day  to 
old-fashioned  German  words,  in  which  the  stars 
were  alluded  to.  Liza  immediately  seated  her- 
self at  the  piano  and  began  to  decipher  the 
romance-  .  .  .  Alas,  the  music  turned  out  to  be 
complicated,  and  disagreeably  strained;  it  was 
obvious  that  the  composer  had  attempted  to  ex- 
press some  passionate,  profound  sentiment,  but 
nothing  had  come  of  it :  so  the  attempt  remained 
merely  an  attempt.  .  Lavretzky  and  Liza  both 
felt  this, — and  Lemm  understood  it:  he  said  not 
a  word,  put  his  romance  back  in  his  pocket,  and 
in  reply  to  Liza's  proposal  to  play  it  over  again, 
he  merely  said  significantly,  with  a  shake  of  his 
head:  "Enough — for  the  present!" — bent  his 
shoulders,  shrank  together,  and  left  the  room. 

153 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Toward  evening,  they  all  went  fishing  to- 
gether. The  pond  beyond  the  garden  contained 
a  quantity  of  carp  and  loach.  They  placed 
Marya  Dmitrievna  in  an  arm-chair  near  the  bank, 
in  the  shade,  spread  a  rug  under  her  feet,  and 
gave  her  the  best  hook;  Anton,  in  the  quality  of 
an  old  and  expert  fisherman,  offered  his  services. 
He  assiduously  spitted  worms  on  the  hook, 
slapped  them  down  with  his  hand,  spat  on  them, 
and  even  himself  flung  the  line  and  hook,  bend- 
ing forward  with  his  whole  body.  That  same 
day,  Marya  Dmitrievna  expressed  herself  to 
Feodor  Ivanitch,  with  regard  to  him,  in  the  fol- 
lowing phrase,  in  the  French  language  of  girls' 
institutes :  "  II  ny  a  plus  maintenant  de  ces  gens 
comme  fa  comme  autrefois."  Lemm,  with  the 
two  little  girls,  went  further  away,  to  the  dam; 
Lavretzky  placed  himself  beside  Liza.  The  fish 
bit  incessantly,  the  carp  which  were  caught  were 
constantly  flashing  their  sides,  now  gold,  now 
silver,  in  the  air;  the  joyous  exclamations  of  the 
little  girls  were  unceasing;  Marya  Dmitrievna 
herself  gave  vent  to  a  couple  of  shrill,  feminine 
shrieks.  Lavretzky  and  Liza  caught  fewer  than 
the  others;  this,  probably,  resulted  from  the  fact 
that  they  paid  less  attention  than  the  rest  to  their 
fishing,  and  allowed  their  floats  to  drift  close  in- 
shore. The  tall,  reddish  reeds  rustled  softly 
around  them,  in  front  of  them  the  motionless 
water  gleamed  softly,  and  their  conversation  was 

154 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

soft  also.  Liza  stood  on  a  small  raft ;  Lavretzky 
sat  on  the  inclined  trunk  of  a  willow ;  Liza  wore 
a  white  gown,  girt  about  the  waist  with  a  broad 
ribbon,  also  white  in  hue ;  her  straw  hat  was  hang- 
ing from  one  hand,  with  the  other,  she  supported, 
with  some  effort,  the  curved  fishing-rod.  La- 
vretzky gazed  at  the  pure,  rather  severe  profile, 
at  her  hair  tucked  behind  her  ears,  at  her  soft 
cheeks,  which  were  as  sunburned  as  those  of  a 
child, — and  said  to  himself:  "  O  how  charm- 
ingly thou  standest  on  my  pond! '  Liza  did  not 
turn  toward  him,  but  stared  at  the  water, — and 
half  smiled,  half  screwed  up  her  eyes.  The 
shadow  of  a  linden-tree  near  at  hand  fell  upon 
both  of  them. 

"  Do  you  know," — began  Lavretzky: — "  I 
have  been  thinking  a  great  deal  about  my  last 
conversation  with  you,  and  have  come  to  the  con- 
elusion,  that  you  are  extraordinarily  kind." 

"  I  did  not  mean  it  in  that  way  at  all  .  .  .  ." 
Liza  began, — and  was  overcome  with  shame. 

"  You  are  kind," — repeated  Lavretzky.  '  I 
am  a  rough  man,  but  I  feel  that  every  one  must 
love  you.  There  's  Lemm  now,  for  example :  he 
is  simply  in  love  with  you." 

Liza's  brows  quivered,  rather  than  contracted; 
this  always  happened  with  her  when  she  heard 
something  disagreeable. 

"  I  felt  very  sorry  for  him  to-day," — Lavret- 
zky resumed: — "with  his  unsuccessful  romance. 

155 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

To  be  young,  and  be  able  to  do  a  tbing — tbat 
can  be  borne;  but  to  grow  old,  and  not  have  the 
power — is  painful.  And  the  offensive  thing 
about  it  is,  that  you  are  not  conscious  when  your 
powers  begin  to  wane.  It  is  difficult  for  an  old 
man  to  endure  these  shocks!  ....  Look  out, 
the  fish  are  biting  at  your  hook.  .  .  They  say," 
— added  Lavretzky,  after  a  brief  pause, — "  that 
Vladimir  Nikolaitch  has  written  a  very  pretty 
romance." 

"  Yes," — replied  Liza; — "  it  is  a  trifle,  but  it  is 
not  bad." 

"  And  what  is  your  opinion," — asked  Lavret- 
zky:— "  is  he  a  good  musician?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  he  has  great  talent  for 
music;  but  up  to  the  present  time  he  has  not  cul- 
tivated it  as  he  should." 

"  Exactly.    And  is  he  a  nice  man?  " 

Liza  laughed,  and  cast  a  quick  glance  at  Feo- 
dor  Ivanitch. 

"What  a  strange  question!" — she  exclaimed, 
drawing  up  her  hook,  and  flinging  it  far  out 
again. 

"  Why  is  it  strange? — I  am  asking  you  about 
him  as  a  man  who  has  recently  come  hither,  as 
your  relative." 

"As  a  relative?" 

"  Yes.     I   believe   I   am  a   sort   of  uncle  to 

you." 

"  Vladimir  Nikolaitch  has  a  kind  heart," — said 

156 


« 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza: — "he  is  clever;  mamma  is  very  fond  of 
him." 

And  do  you  like  him?  " 
He  is  a  nice  man:  why  should  not  I  like 
him?" 

"  Ah!  " — said  Lavretzky,  and  relapsed  into  si- 
lence. A  half -mournful,  half -sneering  expres- 
sion flitted  across  his  face.  His  tenacious  gaze 
discomfited  Liza,  but  she  continued  to  smile. 
"Well,  God  grant  them  happiness!" — he  mut- 
tered, at  last,  as  though  to  himself,  and  turned 
away  his  head. 

Liza  blushed. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Feodor  Ivanitch," — she 
said: — "  there  is  no  cause  for  your  thinking  .... 
But  do  not  you  like  Vladimir  Nikolaitch  ? " 

"  I  do  not." 

"Why?" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  that  he  has  no  heart." 

The  smile  vanished  from  Liza's  face. 

"  You  have  become  accustomed  to  judge  peo- 
ple harshly," — she  said,  after  a  long  silence. 

'  I  think  not.  What  right  have  I  to  judge 
others  harshly,  when  I  myself  stand  in  need  of 
indulgence?  Or  have  you  forgotten  that  a  lazy 
man  is  the  only  one  who  does  not  laugh  at 
me?  ...  .  Well," — he  added: — "and  have  you 
kept  your  promise?  " 

"  What  promise? " 

"  Have  you  prayed  for  me?" 

157 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Yes,  I  have  prayed,  and  I  do  pray  for  you 
every  day.  But  please  do  not  speak  lightly  of 
that." 

Lavretzky  began  to  assure  Liza,  that  such  a 
thing  had  never  entered  his  head,  that  he  enter- 
tained a  profound  respect  for  all  convictions; 
then  he  entered  upon  a  discussion  of  religion, 
its  significance  in  the  history  of  mankind,  the 
significance  of  Christianity.  .  .  . 

"  One  must  be  a  Christian," — said  Liza,  not 
without  a  certain  effort: — "  not  in  order  to  un- 
derstand heavenly  things yonder  .  .  . 

earthly   things,    but   because    every   man   must 
die." 

Lavretzky,  with  involuntary  surprise,  raised 
his  eyes  to  Liza's,  and  encountered  her  glance. 

"What  a  word  you  have  uttered!" — said 
he. 

"  The  word  is  not  mine," — she  replied. 

"  It  is  not  yours.  .  .  But  why  do  you  speak 
of  death?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.    I  often  think  about  it." 

"  Often? " 

"  Yes." 

"  One  would  not  say  so,  to  look  at  you  now: 
you  have  such  a  merry,  bright  face,  you  are 
smiling " 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  merry  now," — returned  Liza, 
ingenuously. 

158 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Lavretzky  felt  like  seizing  both  her  hands,  and 
clasping  them  tightly. 

'Liza,  Liza!" — called  Marya  Dmitrievna, — 
"come  hither,  look!  What  a  carp  I  have  caught!" 

"  Immediately,  maman" — replied  Liza,  and 
went  to  her,  but  Lavretzky  remained  on  his  wil- 
low-tree. 

"  I  talk  with  her  as  though  I  were  not  a  man 
whose  life  is  finished,"  he  said  to  himself.  As  she 
departed,  Liza  had  hung  her  hat  on  a  bough; 
with  a  strange,  almost  tender  sentiment,  Lavret- 
zky gazed  at  the  hat,  at  its  long,  rather  crumpled 
ribbons.  Liza  speedily  returned  to  him,  and 
again  took  up  her  stand  on  the  raft. 

"  Why  do  you  think  that  Vladimir  Nikolaitch 
has  no  heart?  " — she  inquired,  a  few  moments 
later. 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  that  I  may  be  mis- 
taken; however,  time  will  show." 

Liza  became  thoughtful.  Lavretzky  began  to 
talk  about  his  manner  of  life  at  Vasilievskoe, 
about  Mikhalevitch,  about  Anton;  he  felt  im- 
pelled to  talk  to  Liza,  to  communicate  to  her 
everything  that  occurred  to  his  soul:  she  was  so 
charming,  she  listened  to  him  so  attentively;  her 
infrequent  comments  and  replies  seemed  to  him 
so  simple  and  wise.    He  even  told  her  so. 

Liza  was  amazed. 
1  Really?  " — she  said; — "  why,  I  have  always 

159 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

thought  that  I,  like  my  maid  Nastya,  had  no 
words  of  my  own.  One  day  she  said  to  her  be- 
trothed :  '  Thou  must  find  it  tiresome  with  me ; 
thou  always  sayest  such  fine  things  to  me,  but  I 
have  no  words  of  my  own.'  " 

"And   thank   God   for  that!"   thought   La- 
vretzky. 


160 


XXVII 

In  the  meantime,  evening  drew  on,  and  Marya 
Dmitrievna  expressed  a  desire  to  return  home. 
The  little  girls  were,  with  difficulty,  torn  away 
from  the  pond,  and  made  ready.  Lavretzky  an- 
nounced his  intention  to  escort  his  guests  half 
way,  and  ordered  his  horse  to  be  saddled.  As 
he  seated  Marya  Dmitrievna  in  the  carriage,  he 
remembered  Lemm ;  but  the  old  man  was  nowhere 
to  be  found.  He  had  disappeared  as  soon  as  the 
angling  was  over.  Anton  slammed  to  the  carriage 
door,  with  a  strength  remarkable  for  his  years, 
and  grimly  shouted:  "Drive  on,  coachman!" 
The  carriage  rolled  off.  On  the  back  seat  sat 
Marya  Dmitrievna  and  Liza;  on  the  front  seat, 
the  little  girls  and  the  maid.  The  evening  was 
warm  and  still,  and  the  windows  were  lowered  on 
both  sides.  Lavretzky  rode  at  a  trot  by  Liza's 
side  of  the  carriage,  with  his  hand  resting  on 
the  door, — he  had  dropped  the  reins  on  the  neck 
of  his  steed,  which  was  trotting  smoothly, — and 
from  time  to  time  exchanged  a  few  words  with 
the  young  girl.  The  sunset  glow  vanished ;  night 
descended,  and  the  air  grew  even  warmer.  Marya 
Dmitrievna  soon  fell  into  a  doze;  the  little  girls 
and  the  maid  also  dropped  off  to  sleep.     The 

161 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

carriage   rolled   swiftly   and   smoothly   onward; 
Liza  leaned  forward;  the  moon,  which  had  just 
risen,    shone    on   her   face,    the    fragrant    night 
breeze  blew  on  her  cheeks  and  neck.     She  felt  at 
ease.    Her  hand  lay  on  the  door  of  the  carriage, 
alongside  of  Lavretzky's  hand.     And  he,  also, 
felt  at  ease:  he  was  being  borne  along  through 
the  tranquil  nocturnal  warmth,  never  taking  his 
eyes  from  the  kind  young  face,  listening  to  the 
youthful  voice,  which  was  ringing  even  in  a  whis- 
per, saying  simple,  kindly  things ;  he  did  not  even 
notice  that  he  had  passed  the  half-way  point.  He 
did    not    wish    to    awaken    Marya    Dmitrievna, 
pressed  Liza's  hand  lightly,  and  said: — "  We  are 
friends,  now,  are  we  not?  "    She  nodded,  he  drew 
up  his  horse.     The   carriage  rolled  on,   gently 
swaying    and    lurching:    Lavretzky    proceeded 
homeward  at  a  footpace.     The  witchery  of  the 
summer  night  took  possession  of  him ;  everything 
around  him  seemed  so  unexpectedly  strange,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  so  long,  so  sweetly  familiar ;  far 
and  near, — and  things  were  visible  at  a  long  dis- 
tance, although  the  eye  did  not  comprehend  much 
of    what    it    beheld, — everything    was    at    rest; 
young,  blossoming  life  made  itself  felt  in  that 
very  repose.     Lavretzky's  horse  walked  briskly, 
swaying  regularly  to  right  and  left;  its  huge 
black   shadow  kept   pace   alongside;   there  was 
something  mysteriously  pleasant  in  the  tramp  of 
its  hoofs,  something  cheerful  and  wondrous  in  the 

162 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

resounding  call  of  the  quail.  The  stars  were  hid- 
den in  a  sort  of  brilliant  smoke ;  the  moon,  not  yet 
at  the  full,  shone  with  a  steady  gleam;  its  light 
flooded  the  blue  sky  in  streams,  and  fell  like  a 
stain  of  smoky  gold  upon  the  thin  cloudlets 
which  floated  past ;  the  crispness  of  the  air  called 
forth  a  slight  moisture  in  the  eyes,  caressingly 
enveloped  all  the  limbs,  poured  in  an  abundant 
flood  into  the  breast.  Lavretzky  enjoyed  himself, 
and  rejoiced  at  his  enjoyment.  "  Come,  life  is 
still  before  us,"  he  thought: — "it  has  not  been 

completely  ruined  yet  by "     He  did  not 

finish  his  sentence,  and  say  who  or  what  had 
ruined  it.  .  .  Then  he  began  to  think  of  Liza,  that 
it  was  hardly  likely  that  she  loved  Panshin;  that 
had  he  met  her  under  different  circumstances, — 
God  knows  what  might  have  come  of  it;  that  he 
understood  Lemm,  although  she  had  no  "  words 
of  her  own."  Yes,  but  that  was  not  true:  she 
had  words  of  her  own.  ..."  Do  not  speak 
lightly  of  that,"  recurred  to  Lavretzky 's  memory. 
He  rode  for  a  long  time,  with  drooping  head, 
then  he  straightened  himself  up,  and  slowly 
recited : 

"  And  I  have  burned  all  that  I  worshipped, 
I  have  worshipped  all  that  I  burned  .   .   .   ." 

but  immediately  gave  his  horse  a  cut  with  the 
whip,  and  rode  at  a  gallop  all  the  rest  of  the  way 
home. 

163 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

As  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  he  cast  a  last 
glance  around  him,  with  an  involuntary,  grate- 
ful smile.  Night,  the  speechless,  caressing  night, 
lay  upon  the  hills  and  in  the  valleys;  from  afar, 
from  its  fragrant  depths,  God  knows  whence, — 
whether  from  heaven  or  earth, — emanated  a 
soft,  quiet  warmth.  Lavretzky  wafted  a  last 
salutation  to  Liza,  and  ran  up  the  steps. 

The  following  day  passed  rather  languidly. 
Rain  fell  from  early  morning ;  Lemm  cast  furtive 
glances  from  beneath  his  eyebrows,  and  pursed 
up  his  lips  more  and  more  tightly,  as  though  he 
had  vowed  to  himself  never  to  open  them  again. 
On  lying  down  to  sleep,  Lavretzky  had  taken  to 
bed  with  him  a  whole  pile  of  French  newspapers, 
which  had  already  been  lying  on  his  table  for 
two  weeks,  with  their  wrappers  unbroken.  He 
set  to  work  idly  to  strip  off  the  wrappers,  and 
glance  through  the  columns  of  the  papers,  which, 
however,  contained  nothing  new.  He  was  on  the 
point  of  throwing  them  aside, — when,  all  of  a 
sudden,  he  sprang  out  of  bed  as  though  he  had 
been  stung.  In  the  feuilleton  of  one  of  the  pa- 
pers, M'sieu  Jules,  already  known  to  us,  imparted 
to  his  readers  "  a  sad  bit  of  news  ":  "  The  charm- 
'ing,  bewitching  native  of  Moscow,"  he  wrote, 
"  one  of  the  queens  of  fashion,  the  ornament  of 
Parisian  salons,  Madame  de  Lavretzki,  had  died 
almost  instantaneously, — and  this  news,  unhap- 
pily only  too  true,  had  only  just  reached  him, 

164 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

M.  Jules.    He  was," — he  continued, — "  he  might 

say,  a  friend  of  the  deceased " 

Lavretzky  dressed  himself,  went  out  into  the 
garden,  and  until  morning  dawned,  he  paced 
hack  and  forth  in  one  and  the  same  alley. 


165 


XXVIII 

On  the  following  morning,  at  tea,  Lemm  re- 
quested Lavretzky  to  furnish  him  with  horses, 
that  he  might  return  to  town.  "It  is  time  that 
I  should  set  about  my  work, — that  is  to  say,  my 
lessons,"  remarked  the  old  man: — "but  here  I 
am  only  wasting  time  in  vain."  Lavretzky  did 
not  immediately  reply  to  him:  he  seemed  pre- 
occupied. 'Very  well," — he  said  at  last; — "I 
will  accompany  you  myself." — Without  any  aid 
from  the  servants,  grunting  and  fuming,  Lemm 
packed  his  small  trunk,  and  tore  up  and  burned 
several  sheets  of  music-paper.  The  horses  were 
brought  round.  As  he  emerged  from  his  study, 
Lavretzky  thrust  into  his  pocket  the  newspaper 
of  the  day  before.  During  the  entire  journey, 
Lemm  and  Lavretzky  had  very  little  to  say  to 
each  other:  each  of  them  was  engrossed  with  his 
own  thoughts,  and  each  was  delighted  that  the 
other  did  not  disturb  him.  And  they  parted  rather 
coldly, — which,  by  the  way,  frequently  happens 
between  friends  in  Russia.  Lavretzky  drove  the 
old  man  to  his  tiny  house :  the  latter  alighted,  got 
out  his  trunk,  and  without  offering  his  hand  to 
his  friend  (he  held  his  trunk  in  front  of  his  chest 

166 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

with  both  hands ) ,  without  even  looking  at  him, — 
he  said  in  Russian:  "  Good-bye,  sir!  " — "  Good- 
bye,"— repeated  Lavretzky,  and  ordered  his 
coachman  to  drive  him  to  his  own  lodgings.  ( He 
had  hired  a  lodging  in  the  town  of  O  *  *  *  in 
case  he  might  require  it.)  After  writing  several 
letters  and  dining  in  haste,  Lavretzky  took  his 
way  to  the  Kalitins.  In  their  drawing-room  he 
found  no  one  but  Panshin,  who  informed  him 
that  Marya  Dmitrievna  would  be  down  directly, 
and  immediately  entered  into  conversation  with 
him,  with  the  most  cordial  amiability.  Up  to 
that  day,  Panshin  had  treated  Lavretzky,  not  ex- 
actly in  a  patronizing  way,  yet  condescendingly; 
but  Liza,  in  telling  Panshin  about  her  jaunt  of 
the  day  before,  had  expressed  herself  to  the  effect 
that  Lavretzky  was  a  very  fine  and  clever  man; 
that  was  enough:  the  "  very  fine  "  man  must  be 
captivated.  Panshin  began  with  compliments  to 
Lavretzky,  with  descriptions  of  the  raptures  with 
which,  according  to  his  statement,  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna's  whole  family  had  expressed  themselves 
about  Vasilievskoe,  and  then,  according  to  his 
wont,  passing  adroitly  to  himself,  he  began  to 
talk  about  his  own  occupations,  his  views  of  life, 
of  the  world,  of  the  government  service ; — he  said 
a  couple  of  words  about  the  future  of  Russia, 
about  the  proper  way  of  keeping  the  governors 
in  hand;  thereupon,  merrily  jeered  at  himself, 
and  added,  that,  among  other  things,  he  had  been 

167 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

commissioned  in  Petersburg — <cde  populariser 
Videe  du  cadastre."  He  talked  for  quite  a  long 
time,  with  careless  self-confidence  solving  all  dif- 
ficulties, and  juggling  with  the  most  weighty  ad- 
ministrative and  political  questions,  as  a  sleight- 
of-hand  performer  juggles  with  his  balls.  The 
expressions :  "  This  is  what  I  would  do,  if  I  were 
the  government " ;  "  You,  as  a  clever  man,  will 
immediately  agree  with  me  " — were  never  absent 
from  his  tongue.  Lavretzky  listened  coldly  to 
Panshin's  idle  chatter:  he  did  not  like  this  hand- 
some, clever,  and  unconstrainedly  elegant  man, 
with  his  brilliant  smile,  courteous  voice,  and 
searching  eyes.  Panshin  speedily  divined,  with 
the  swift  comprehension  of  other  people's  senti- 
ments which  was  peculiar  to  him,  that  he  was  not 
affording  his  interlocutor  any  particular  pleasure, 
and  made  his  escape,  under  a  plausible  pretext,  de- 
ciding in  his  own  mind  that  Lavretzky  might  be 
a  very  fine  man,  but  that  he  was  not  sympathetic, 
was  "aigri"  and,  "  en  somme"  rather  ridiculous. 
— Marya  Dmitrievna  made  her  appearance  ac- 
companied by  Gedeonovsky;  then  Marfa  Timo- 
f eevna  entered  with  Liza ;  after  them  followed  the 
other  members  of  the  household;  then  came  that 
lover  of  music,  Mme.  Byelenitzyn,  a  small,  thin 
lady,  with  an  almost  childish,  fatigued  and  hand- 
some little  face,  in  a  rustling  black  gown,  with  a 
motley -hued  fan,  and  heavy  gold  bracelets;  her 
husband  also  came,  a  rosy-cheeked,  plump  man, 

168 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

with  huge  feet  and  hands,  with  white  eyelashes, 
and  an  impassive  smile  on  his  thick  lips;  in  com- 
pany his  wife  never  spoke  to  him,  but  at  home, 
in  moments  of  tenderness,  she  was  wont  to  call 
him  'her  little  pig";  Panshin  returned:  the 
rooms  became  very  full  of  people  and  very  noisy. 
Such  a  throng  of  people  was  not  to  Lavretzky's 
liking;  Mme.  Byelenitzyn  particularly  enraged 
him  by  constantly  staring  at  him  through  her 
lorgnette.  He  would  have  withdrawn  at  once, 
had  it  not  been  for  Liza:  he  wished  to  say  two 
words  to  her  in  private,  but  for  a  long  time  he 
was  not  able  to  seize  a  convenient  moment,  and 
contented  himself  with  watching  her  in  secret 
joy;  never  had  her  face  seemed  to  him  more  noble 
and  charming.  She  appeared  to  great  advan- 
tage from  the  proximity  of  Mme.  Byelenitzyn. 
The  latter  was  incessantly  fidgeting  about  on 
her  chair,  shrugging  her  narrow  little  shoulders, 
laughing,  in  an  enervated  way,  and  screwing  up 
her  eyes,  then  suddenly  opening  them  very  wide. 
Liza  sat  quietly,  her  gaze  was  direct,  and  she  did 
not  laugh  at  all.  The  hostess  sat  down  to  play 
cards  with  Marfa  Timofeevna,  Mme.  Byelenit- 
zyn, and  Gedeonovsky,  who  played  very  slowly, 
was  constantly  making  mistakes,  blinking  his 
eyes,  and  mopping  his  face  with  his  hand- 
kerchief. Panshin  assumed  a  melancholy  mien, 
expressed  himself  with  brevity,  with  great  sig- 
nificance and  mournfulness, — for  all  the  world 

169 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

like  an  artist  who  has  not  had  his  say, — but  de- 
spite the  entreaties  of  Mme.  Byelenitzyn,  who 
was  having  a  violent  flirtation  with  him,  he  would 
not  consent  to  sing  his  romance:  Lavretzky 
embarrassed  him.  Feodor  Ivanitch  also  said 
little;  the  peculiar  expression  of  his  face  had 
startled  Liza,  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  room :  she 
immediately  felt  that  he  had  something  to  com- 
municate to  her,  but,  without  herself  knowing 
why,  she  was  afraid  to  interrogate  him.  At  last, 
as  she  passed  into  the  hall 1  to  pour  tea,  she  invol- 
untarily turned  her  head  in  his  direction.  He 
immediately  followed  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  " — she  said,  as 
she  placed  the  teapot  on  the  samovar. 

"  Have  you  noticed  it?  " 

"  You  are  not  the  same  to-day  as  I  have  seen 
you  heretofore." 

Lavretzky  bent  over  the  table. 

"  I  wanted," — he  began, — "  to  tell  you  a  cer- 
tain piece  of  news,  but  now  it  is  not  possible. — 
However,  read  what  is  marked  with  pencil  in 
this  feuilleton," — he  added,  giving  her  the  copy 
of  the  newspaper  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 
— "  I  beg  that  you  will  keep  this  secret;  I  will 
call  on  you  to-morrow  morning." 

Liza  was  surprised.  .  .  Panshin  made  his  ap- 
pearance on  the  threshold  of  the  door:  she  put 
the  newspaper  in  her  pocket. 

1  A  combination  of  music-room,  ball-room,  play-room,  also  used  for 
all  sorts  of  purposes,  in  all  well-to-do  Russian  houses.— Translator. 

170 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Have  you  read  Obermann,  Lizaveta  Mikhai- 
lovna?  " — Panshin  asked  her  meditatively. 

Liza  gave  him  a  superficial  answer,  left  the 
hall,  and  went  up-stairs.  Lavretzky  returned  to 
the  drawing-room,  and  approached  the  card- 
table.  Marfa  Timofeevna,  with  her  cap-ribbons 
untied,  and  red  in  the  face,  began  to  complain  to 
him  about  her  partner,  Gedeonovsky,  who,  ac- 
cording to  her,  did  not  know  how  to  lead. 

"  Evidently," — she  said, — "  playing  cards  is 
quite  a  different  thing  from  inventing  fibs." 

Her  partner  continued  to  blink  and  mop  his 
face.  Liza  entered  the  drawing-room,  and  seated 
herself  in  a  corner;  Lavretzky  looked  at  her,  she 
looked  at  him, — and  something  like  dread  fell 
upon  them  both.  He  read  surprise  and  a  sort  of 
secret  reproach  in  her  face.  Long  as  he  might  to 
talk  to  her,  he  could  not  do  it;  to  remain  in  the 
same  room  with  her,  a  guest  among  strangers, 
was  painful  to  him:  he  decided  to  go  away.  As 
he  took  leave  of  her,  he  managed  to  repeat  that 
he  would  come  on  the  morrow,  and  he  added  that 
he  trusted  in  her  friendship. 

"  Come," — she  replied,  with  the  same  amaze- 
ment on  her  face. 

Panshin  brightened  up  after  Lavretzky's  de- 
parture ;  he  began  to  give  advice  to  Gedeonovsky, 
banteringly  paid  court  to  Mme.  Byelenitzyn, 
and,  at  last,  sang  his  romance.  But  he  talked  with 
Liza  and  gazed  at  her  as  before :  significantly  and 
rather  sadly. 

171 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

And  again,  Lavretzky  did  not  sleep  all  night 
long.  He  did  not  feel  sad,  lie  was  not  excited, 
he  had  grown  altogether  calm;  but  he  could  not 
sleep.  He  did  not  even  recall  the  past ;  he  simply- 
gazed  at  his  life:  his  heart  beat  strongly  and 
evenly,  the  hours  flew  past,  but  he  did  not  even 
think  of  sleeping.  At  times,  only,  did  the  thought 
come  to  the  surface  in  his  mind:  "  But  that  is  not 
true,  it  is  all  nonsense," — and  he  paused,  lowered 
his  head,  and  began  again  to  gaze  at  his  life. 


172 


XXIX 

Marya  Dmitrievna  did  not  receive  Lavretzky 
with  any  excess  of  cordiality,  when  he  presented 
himself  on  the  following  day.  "  Well,  you  are 
making  yourself  pretty  free  of  the  house," — she 
said  to  herself.  Personally,  he  did  not  greatly 
please  her,  and,  in  addition,  Panshin,  under  whose 
influence  she  was,  had  sung  his  praises  in  a  very 
sly  and  careless  manner  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing. As  she  did  not  look  upon  him  in  the  light 
of  a  guest,  and  did  not  consider  it  necessary  to 
trouble  herself  about  a  relative  almost  a  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  half  an  hour  had  not  elapsed 
before  he  was  strolling  down  an  alley  in  the 
garden  with  Liza.  Lyenotchka  and  Schiirotchka 
were  frolicking  a  short  distance  away,  among  the 
flower-beds. 

Liza  was  composed,  as  usual,  but  paler  than 
usual.  She  took  from  her  pocket  and  handed  to 
Lavretzky  the  sheet  of  newspaper,  folded  small. 

"  This  is  dreadful!  " — said  she. 

Lavretzky  made  no  reply. 

"  But  perhaps  it  is  not  yet  true," — added  Liza. 
'  That  is  why  I  asked  you  not  to  mention  it 
to  any  one." 

173 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza  walked  on  a  little  way. 

"Tell  me," — she  began: — "you  are  not 
grieved?   Not  in  the  least?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  myself  what  my  feelings  are," 
— replied  Lavretzky. 

"  But,  assuredly,  you  used  to  love  her? ' 

"  Yes,  I  did." 

"  Very  much? " 

"  Very  much." 

"  And  you  are  not  grieved  by  her  death? ' 

"  It  is  not  now  that  she  has  died  to  me." 

"  What  you  say  is  sinful.  .  .  .  Do  not  be 
angry  with  me.  You  call  me  your  friend:  a 
friend  may  say  anything.  To  tell  the  truth,  I 
feel  terrified.  .  .  .  Your  face  was  so  malign 
yesterday.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember,  how  you 
were  complaining  of  her,  not  long  ago? — and 
perhaps,  already,  at  that  very  time,  she  was  no 
longer  alive.  This  is  terrible.  It  is  exactly  as 
though  it  had  been  sent  to  you  as  a  chastise- 
ment." 

Lavretzky  laughed  bitterly. 

"Do  you  think  so?  .  .  .  At  all  events,  I  am 
free  now." 

Liza  gave  a  slight  start. 

"  Stop,  do  not  talk  like  that.  Of  what  use 
to  you  is  your  freedom?  You  must  not  think 
about  that  now,  but  about  forgiveness.  .  ." 

"  I  forgave  her  long  ago," — interrupted  La- 
vretzky, with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

174 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 


"  No,  not  that," — returned  Liza,  and  blushed. 
"  You  did  not  understand  me  rightly.  You 
must  take  means  to  obtain  forgiveness.  .  .  ." 

"  Who  is  there  to  forgive  me? " 

"Who?— God.  Who  else  but  God  can  for- 
give us?  " 

Lavretzky  caught  her  hand. 

"  Akh,  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna,  believe  me," — 
he  exclaimed: — "I  have  been  sufficiently  pun- 
ished as  it  is.  I  have  already  atoned  for  every- 
thing, believe  me." 

;  You  cannot  know  that," — said  Liza  in  a 
low  voice.  "  You  have  forgotten ; — not  very 
long  ago, — when  you  were  talking  to  me, — you 
were  not  willing  to  forgive  her.  ..." 

The  two  walked  silently  down  the  alley. 

'  And  how  about  your  daughter?  " — Liza  sud- 
denly inquired,  and  halted. 

Lavretzky  started. 

"  Oh,  do  not  worry  yourself!  I  have  already 
despatched  letters  to  all  the  proper  places.  The 
future  of  my  daughter,  as  you  call  ....  as  you 
say  ...  is  assured.    Do  not  disquiet  yourself." 

Liza  smiled  sadly. 

"  But  you  are  right," — went  on  Lavretzky: — 
'  what  can  I  do  with  my  freedom?  Of  what  use 
is  it  to  me?  " 

"  When  did  you  receive  that  newspaper?  " — 
said  Liza,  making  no  reply  to  his  question. 

"  The  day  after  your  visit." 

175 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  And  is  it  possible  ....  is  it  possible  that 
you  did  not  even  weep  ?  " 

"  No.  I  was  stunned ;  but  where  were  the  tears 
to  come  from?  Weep  over  the  past, — but,  you 
see,  it  is  entirely  extirpated  in  my  case!  .... 
Her  behaviour  itself  did  not  destroy  my  happi- 
ness, but  merely  proved  to  me  that  it  had  never 
existed.  What  was  there  to  cry  about?  But, 
who  knows? — perhaps  I  should  have  been  more 
grieved  if  I  had  received  this  news  two  weeks 
earlier " 

"  Two  weeks?  " — returned  Liza.  "  But  what 
has  happened  in  those  two  weeks?' 

Lavretzky  made  no  answer,  and  Liza  suddenly 
blushed  more  furiously  than  before. 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  have  guessed  it," — interposed 
Lavretzky: — "  in  the  course  of  those  two  weeks 
I  have  learned  what  a  pure  woman's  soul  is  like, 
and  my  past  has  retreated  still  further  from  me." 

Liza  became  confused,  and  softly  walked 
toward  the  flower-garden,  to  Lyenotchka  and 
Schurotchka. 

"  And  I  am  glad  that  I  have  shown  you  this 
newspaper," — said  Lavretzky,  as  he  followed 
her: — "  I  have  already  contracted  the  habit  of 
concealing  nothing  from  you,  and  I  hope  that 
you  will  repay  me  with  the  same  confidence." 

"  Do  you  think  so?  " — said  Liza,  and  stopped 

short.     "  In  that  case,  I  ought  to but 

no!   That  is  impossible." 

176 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  What  is  it?  Speak,  speak!  " 

"  Really,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  ought  not.  .  .  . 
However,"  added  Liza,  and  turned  to  Lavretzky 
with  a  smile: — "  what  is  half -frankness  worth? — 
Do  you  know?  I  received  a  letter  to-day." 

"From  Panshin?" 

"  Yes,  from  him How  did  you  know? ' 

"  He  asks  your  hand?  " 

"  Yes," — uttered  Liza,  and  looked  seriously 
in  Lavretzky's  eyes. 

Lavretzky,  in  his  turn,  gazed  seriously  at  Liza. 

'  Well,  and  what  reply  have  you  made  to 
him?  " — he  said  at  last. 

'  I  do  not  know  what  reply  to  make," — replied 
Liza,  and  dropped  her  clasped  hands. 

"What?    Surely,  you  like  him?" 

"  Yes,  he  pleases  me ;  he  seems  to  be  a  nice 


man. 


You  said  the  same  thing  to  me,  in  those  very 
same  words,  three  days  ago.  What  I  want  to 
know  is,  whether  you  love  him  with  that  strong, 
passionate  feeling  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
call  love?" 

"  As  you  understand  it, — no." 

"  You  are  not  in  love  with  him? " 

"  No.    But  is  that  necessary?" 

"Of  course  it  is!" 

"Mamma   likes   him," — pursued   Liza: — "he 
is  amiable;  I  have  nothing  against  him." 
Still,  you  are  wavering?  " 

177 


<< 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Yes  .  .  .  and  perhaps, — your  words  may  be 
the  cause  of  it.  Do  you  remember  what  you  said 
day  before  yesterday?   But  that  weakness  .  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  my  child!" — suddenly  exclaimed  La- 
vretzky— and  his  voice  trembled: — "do  not 
argue  artfully,  do  not  designate  as  weakness  the 
cry  of  your  heart,  which  does  not  wish  to  surren- 
der itself  without  love.  Do  not  take  upon  your- 
self that  terrible  responsibility  toward  a  man 
whom  you  do  not  love  and  to  whom  you  do  not 
wish  to  belong.  .  .  ." 

'  I  am  listening, — -I  am  taking  nothing  upon 
myself.  .  ."  Liza  was  beginning. 

"  Listen  to  your  heart ;  it  alone  will  tell  you  the 
truth," — Lavretzky  interrupted  her.  .  .  '  Ex- 
perience, reasoning — all  that  is  stuff  and  non- 
sense! Do  not  deprive  yourself  of  the  best,  the 
only  happiness  on  earth." 

"Is  it  you,  Feodor  Ivanitch,  who  are  speak- 
ing thus?  You,  yourself,  married  for  love — and 
were  you  happy?  " 

Lavretzky  wrung  his  hands. 

"  Akh,  do  not  talk  to  me  of  that!  You  cannot 
even  understand  all  that  a  young,  untried,  ab- 
surdlv  educated  lad  can  mistake  for  love!  .  .  . 
Yes,  and  in  short,  why  calumniate  one's  self?  I 
just  told  you,  that  I  had  not  known  happiness 
.  ...  no!  I  was  happy!" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Feodor  Ivanitch," — said 
Liza,  lowering  her  voice  (when  she  did  not  agree 

178 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

with  her  interlocutor,  she  always  lowered  her 
voice;  and,  at  the  same  time,  she  became  greatly 
agitated)  : — "  happiness  on  earth  does  not  de- 
pend upon  us.  .  .  ." 

"  It  does,  it  does  depend  upon  us,  believe  me  ' 
(he  seized  both  her  hands;  Liza  turned  pale,  and 
gazed  at  him  almost  in  terror,  but  with  atten- 
tion) : — "  if  only  we  have  not  ruined  our  own 
lives.  For  some  people,  a  love-marriage  may 
prove  unhappy ;  but  not  for  you,  with  your  calm 
temperament,  with  your  clear  soul!  I  entreat 
you,  do  not  marry  without  love,  from  a  sense  of 

duty,  of  renunciation,  or  anything  else 

That,  also,  is  want  of  faith,  that  is  calculation, — 
and  even  worse.  Believe  me, — I  have  a  right  to 
speak  thus:  I  have  paid  dearly  for  that  right. 
And  if  your  God  .  .  .  ." 

At  that  moment,  Lavretzky  noticed  that  Lye- 
notchka  and  Schurotchka  were  standing  beside 
Liza,  and  staring  at  him  with  dumb  amazement. 
He  released  Liza's  hands,  said  hastily:  "Pray 
pardon  me," — and  walked  toward  the  house. 

"  I  have  only  one  request  to  make  of  you," — 
he  said,  returning  to  Liza: — "  do  not  decide  in- 
stantly, wait,  think  over  what  I  have  said  to  you. 
Even  if  you  have  not  believed  me,  if  you  have 
made  up  your  mind  to  a  marriage  of  reason, — 
even  in  that  case,  you  ought  not  to  marry  Mr. 
Panshin:  he  cannot  be  your  husband.  .  .  . 
Promise  me,  will  you  not.  not  to  be  in  a  hurry? ' 

179 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza  tried  to  answer  Lavretzky,  but  did  not 
utter  a  word, — not  because  she  had  made  up  her 
mind  "  to  be  in  a  hurry  ";  but  because  her  heart 
was  beating  too  violently,  and  a  sensation  re- 
sembling fear  had  stopped  her  breath. 


180 


XXX 

As  he  was  leaving  the  Kalftins'  house,  Lavretzky 
encountered  Panshin;  they  saluted  each  other 
coldly.  Lavretzky  went  home  to  his  apartment, 
and  locked  himself  in.  He  experienced  a  sensa- 
tion such  as  he  had,  in  all  probability,  never  ex- 
perienced before.  Had  he  remained  long  in  that 
state  of  "  peaceful  numbness  "?  had  he  long  con- 
tinued to  feel,  as  he  had  expressed  it,  "  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  river  "  ?  What  had  altered  his  posi- 
tion? what  had  brought  him  out,  to  the  surface? 
the  most  ordinary,  inevitable  though  always  un- 
expected of  events; — death?  Yes:  but  he  did 
not  think  so  much  about  the  death  of  his  wife, 
about  his  freedom,  as, — what  sort  of  answer 
would  Liza  give  to  Panshin?  He  was  conscious 
that,  in  the  course  of  the  last  three  davs,  he  had 
come  to  look  upon  her  with  different  eyes ;  he  re- 
called how,  on  returning  home,  and  thinking 
about  her  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  he  had  said 
to  himself:  "  If  .  .  .  ."  That  "  if,"  wherein  he 
had  alluded  to  the  past,  to  the  impossible,  had 
come  to  pass,  although  not  in  the  way  he  had  an- 
ticipated,— but  this  was  little  in  itself.  "  She  will 
obey  her  mother,"  he  thought,  "  she  will  marry 

181 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Panshin;  but  even  if  she  refuses  him, — is  it  not 
all  the  same  to  me  ? '  As  he  passed  in  front  of 
the  mirror,  he  cast  a  cursory  glance  at  his  face, 
and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

The  day  sped  swiftly  by  in  these  reflections; 
evening  arrived.  Lavretzky  wended  his  way  to 
the  Kalitins.  He  walked  briskly,  but  approached 
their  house  with  lingering  steps.  In  front  of  the 
steps  stood  Panshin's  drozhky.  '  Come," — 
thought  Lavretzky, — "  I  will  not  be  an  egoist," 
and  entered  the  house.  Inside  he  met  no  one, 
and  all  was  still  in  the  drawing-room;  he  opened 
the  door,  and  beheld  Marya  Dmitrievna,  playing 
picquet  with  Panshin.  Panshin  bowed  to  him 
in  silence,  and  the  mistress  of  the  house  uttered 
a  little  scream: — "How  unexpected!" — and 
frowned  slightly.  Lavretzky  took  a  seat  by  her 
side,  and  began  to  look  over  her  cards. 

"  Do  you  know  how  to  play  picquet? " — 
she  asked  him,  with  a  certain  dissembled  vexa- 
tion, and  immediately  announced  that  she  dis- 
carded. 

Panshin  reckoned  up  ninety,  and  politely  and 
calmly  began  to  gather  up  the  tricks,  with  a 
severe  and  dignified  expression  on  his  coun- 
tenance. That  is  the  way  in  which  diplomats 
should  play;  probably,  that  is  the  way  in  which 
he  was  wont  to  play  in  Petersburg,  with  some 
powerful  dignitary,  whom  he  desired  to  impress 
with  a  favourable  opinion  as  to  his  solidity  and 

182 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

maturity.  "  One  hundred  and  one,  one  hundred 
and  two,  hearts;  one  hundred  and  three," — rang 
out  his  measured  tone,  and  Lavretzky  could  not 
understand  what  note  resounded  in  it:  reproach 
or  self-conceit. 

'  Is  Marfa  Timofeevna  to  be  seen? " — he 
asked,  observing  that  Panshin,  still  with  great 
dignity,  was  beginning  to  shuffle  the  cards.  Not 
a  trace  of  the  artist  was,  as  yet,  to  be  observed  in 
him. 

Yes,  I  think  so.  She  is  in  her  own  apart- 
ments, up-stairs," — replied  Marya  Dmitrievna: 
— "  you  had  better  inquire." 

Lavretzky  went  up-stairs,  and  found  Marfa 
Timofeevna  at  cards  also:  she  was  playing 
duratchki  (fools)  with  Nastasya  Karpovna. 
Roska  barked  at  him ;  but  both  the  old  ladies  wel- 
comed him  cordially,  and  Marfa  Timofeevna,  in 
particular,  seemed  to  be  in  high  spirits. 

'Ah!  Fedya!  Pray  come  in," — she  said: — 
"  sit  down,  my  dear  little  father.  We  shall  be 
through  our  game  directly.  Wouldst  thou  like 
some  preserves?  Schurotchka,  get  him  a  jar  of 
strawberries.  Thou  dost  not  want  it  ?  Well,  then 
sit  as  thou  art;  but  as  for  smoking — thou  must 
not:  I  cannot  bear  thy  tobacco,  and,  moreover,  it 
makes  Matros  sneeze." 

Lavretzky  made  haste  to  assert  that  he  did 
not  care  to  smoke. 

"  Hast  thou  been  down-stairs?  " — went  on  the 

183 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

old  woman: — "whom  didst  thou  see  there?  Is 
Panshin  still  on  hand,  as  usual?  And  didst  thou 
see  Liza?  No?  She  intended  to  come  hither.  ..  . 
Yes,  there  she  is;  speak  of  an  angel.  .  ." 

Liza  entered  the  room  and,  on  perceiving  La- 
vretzky,  she  blushed. 

"  I  have  run  in  to  see  you  for  a  minute,  Marfa 
Timofeevna,"  she  began.  .  .  . 

"Why  for  a  minute?" — returned  the  old 
woman.  "  What  makes  all  you  young  girls  such 
restless  creatures?  Thou  seest,  that  I  have  a 
visitor:  chatter  to  him,  entertain  him." 

Liza  seated  herself  on  the  edge  of  a  chair, 
raised  her  eyes  to  Lavretzky, — and  felt  that  it 
was  impossible  not  to  give  him  to  understand  how 
her  interview  with  Panshin  had  ended.  But  how 
was  that  to  be  done  ?  She  felt  both  ashamed  and 
awkward.  She  had  not  been  acquainted  with 
him  long,  with  that  man  who  both  went  rarely 
to  church  and  bore  with  so  much  indifference 
the  death  of  his  wife, — and  here  she  was  already 
imparting  her  secrets  to  him.  .  .  .  He  took  an  in- 
terest in  her,  it  is  true;  she,  herself,  trusted  him, 
and  felt  attracted  to  him;  but,  nevertheless,  she 
felt  ashamed,  as  though  a  stranger  had  entered 
her  pure,  virgin  chamber. 

Marfa  Timofeevna  came  to  her  assistance. 

"  If  thou  wilt  not  entertain  him," — she  began, 
"  who  will  entertain  him,  poor  fellow  ?  I  am  too 
old  for  him,  he  is  too  clever  for  me,  and  for 

184 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Nastasya  Karpovna  he  is  too  old,  you  must  give 
her  nothing  but  very  young  men." 

"How  can  I  entertain  Feodor  Ivanitch?" — 
said  Liza. — "  If  he  likes,  I  will  play  something 
for  him  on  the  piano," — she  added,  irresolutely. 

"  Very  good  indeed:  that 's  my  clever  girl," — 
replied  Marfa  Timofeevna, — "  Go  down-stairs, 
my  dear  people;  when  you  are  through,  come 
back ;  for  I  have  been  left  the  '  fool,'  and  I  feel 
insulted,  and  want  to  win  back." 

Liza  rose:  Lavretzky  followed  her.  As  they 
were  descending  the  staircase,  Liza  halted. 

"They  tell  the  truth," — she  began: — "when 
they  say  that  the  hearts  of  men  are  full  of  contra- 
dictions. Your  example  ought  to  frighten  me, 
to  render  me  distrustful  of  marriage  for  love, 
but  I " 

"  You  have  refused  him?  " — interrupted  La- 
vretzky. 

"  No;  but  I  have  not  accepted  him.  I  told 
him  everything,  everything  that  I  felt,  and  asked 
him  to  wait.  Are  you  satisfied?  " — she  added, 
with  a  swift  smile, — and  lightly  touching  the 
railing  with  her  hand,  she  ran  down  the  stairs. 

"  What  shall  I  play  for  you? " — she  asked,  as 
she  raised  the  lid  of  the  piano. 

"  Whatever  you  like," — replied  Lavretzky, 
and  seated  himself  in  such  a  position  that  he  could 
watch  her. 

Liza  began  to  play,  and,  for  a  long  time,  never 

185 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

took  her  eyes  from  her  fingers.  At  last,  she 
glanced  at  Lavretzky,  and  stopped  short :  so  won- 
derful and  strange  did  his  face  appear  to  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  " — she  asked. 

"Nothing," — he  replied: — "all  is  very  well 
with  me ;  I  am  glad  for  you,  I  am  glad  to  look  at 
you, — go  on." 

"  It  seems  to  me," — said  Liza,  a  few  moments 
later: — "  that  if  he  really  loved  me,  he  would  not 
have  written  that  letter ;  he  ought  to  have  felt  that 
I  could  not  answer  him  now." 

"  That  is  of  no  importance," — said  Lavretzky: 
— "  the  important  point  is,  that  you  do  not  love 
him." 

"  Stop, — what  sort  of  a  conversation  is  this!  I 
keep  having  visions  of  your  dead  wife,  and  you 
are  terrible  to  me !  " 

"  My  Lizeta  plays  charmingly,  does  she  not, 
Valdemar? " — Marya  Dmitrievna  was  saying  to 
Panshin  at  the  same  moment. 

:  Yes,"  —  replied  Panshin ;  —  "  very  charm- 
ingly." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  gazed  tenderly  at  her 
young  partner ;  but  the  latter  assumed  a  still  more 
important  and  careworn  aspect,  and  announced 
fourteen  kings. 


186 


XXXI 

Lavretzky  was  not  a  young  man;  he  could  not 
long  deceive  himself  as  to  the  sentiments  with 
which  Liza  had  inspired  him;  he  became  defin- 
itively convinced,  on  that  day,  that  he  had  fallen 
in  love  with  her.  This  conviction  brought  no 
great  joy  to  him.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  thought, 
"  that  at  the  age  of  five  and  thirty  I  have  nothing 
better  to  do  than  to  put  my  soul  again  into  the 
hands  of  a  woman?  But  Liza  is  not  like  that  one; 
she  would  not  require  from  me  shameful  sacri- 
fices; she  would  not  draw  me  away  from  my  oc- 
cupations; she  herself  would  encourage  me  to 
honourable,  severe  toil,  and  we  would  advance  to- 
gether toward  a  fine  goal.  Yes,"  he  wound  up 
his  meditations: — "  all  that  is  good,  but  the  bad 
thing  is,  that  she  will  not  in  the  least  wish  to 
marry  me.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that  she  told 
me,  that  I  am  terrible  to  her.  On  the  other  hand, 
she  does  not  love  that  Panshin  either.  ...  A  poor 
consolation!  " 

Lavretzky  rode  out  to  Vasilievskoe ;  but  he  did 
not  remain  four  days, — it  seemed  so  irksome  to 
him  there.  He  was  tortured,  also,  by  expectancy: 
the   information   imparted   by   M — r.   Jules   re- 

187 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

quired  confirmation,  and  he  had  received  no  let- 
ters. He  returned  to  the  town,  and  sat  out  the 
evening  at  the  Kalitins'.  It  was  easy  for  him 
to  see,  that  Marya  Dmitrievna  had  risen  in  revolt 
against  him;  but  he  succeeded  in  appeasing  her 
somewhat  by  losing  fifteen  rubles  to  her  at 
picquet, — and  he  spent  about  half  an  hour  alone 
with  Liza,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  her  mother, 
no  longer  ago  than  the  day  before,  had  advised 
her  not  to  be  too  familiar  with  a  man  "qui  a  un  si 
grand  ridicule/'  He  found  a  change  in  her:  she 
seemed,  somehow,  to  have  become  more  thought- 
ful, she  upbraided  him  for  his  absence,  and  asked 
him — would  he  not  go  to  church  on  the  following 
morning  (the  next  day  was  Sunday)  ? 

'  Go," — she  said  to  him,  before  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  replying: — "  we  will  pray  together  for 
the  repose  of  her  soul." — Then  she  added,  that 
she  did  not  know  what  she  ought  to  do, — she  did 
not  know  whether  she  had  the  right  to  make 
Panshin  wait  any  longer  for  her  decision. 

"Why?" — asked  Lavretzky. 

"  Because," — said  she :  "  I  am  already  begin- 
ning to  suspect  what  that  decision  will  be." 

She  declared  that  her  head  ached,  and  went 
off  to  her  own  room  up-stairs,  irresolutely  offer- 
ing Lavretzky  the  tips  of  her  fingers. 

The  next  day,  Lavretzky  went  to  the  morning 
service.  Liza  was  already  in  the  church  when 
he  arrived.     She  observed  him,  although  she  did 

188 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

not  turn  toward  him.  She  prayed  devoutly;  her 
eyes  sparkled  softly,  her  head  bent  and  rose 
softly.  He  felt  that  she  was  praying  for  him 
also, — and  a  wonderful  emotion  filled  his  soul. 
He  felt  happy,  and  somewhat  conscience-stricken. 
The  decorously-standing  congregation,  the  fa- 
miliar faces,  the  melodious  chanting,  the  odour  of 
the  incense,  the  long,  slanting  rays  of  light  from 
the  windows,  the  very  gloom  of  the  walls  and 
vaulted  roof, — all  spoke  to  his  ear.  He  had  not 
been  in  a  church  for  a  long  time,  he  had  not  ap- 
pealed to  God  for  a  long  time:  and  even  now, 
he  did  not  utter  any  words  of  prayer, — he  did 
not  even  pray  without  words,  but  for  a  moment, 
at  least,  if  not  in  body,  certainly  with  all  his  mind, 
he  prostrated  himself  and  bowed  humbly  to  the 
very  earth.  He  recalled  how,  in  his  childhood, 
he  had  prayed  in  church  on  every  occasion  until 
he  became  conscious  of  some  one's  cool  touch  on 
his  brow;  "  this,"  he  had  been  accustomed  to  say 
to  himself  at  that  time,  "  is  my  guardian-angel 
accepting  me,  laying  upon  me  the  seal  of  the 
chosen."  He  cast  a  glance  at  Liza.  ..."  Thou 
hast  brought  me  hither,"  he  thought: — "  do  thou 
also  touch  me,  touch  my  soul."  She  continued 
to  pray  in  the  same  calm  manner  as  before;  her 
face  seemed  to  him  joyful,  and  he  was  profoundly 
moved  once  more ;  he  entreated  for  that  other  soul 

— peace,  for  his  own — pardon 

They  met  in  the  porch;  she  greeted  him  with 

180 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

cheerful  and  amiable  dignity.  The  sun  brilliantly 
illuminated  the  young  grass  in  the  churchyard, 
and  the  motley-hued  gowns  and  kerchiefs  of  the 
women;  the  bells  of  the  neighbouring  churches 
were  booming  aloft;  the  sparrows  were  chirping 
in  the  hedgerows.  Lavretzky  stood  with  head  un- 
covered, and  smiled ;  a  light  breeze  lifted  his  hair, 
and  the  tips  of  the  ribbons  on  Liza's  hat.  He  put 
Liza  into  her  carriage,  distributed  all  his  small 
change  to  the  poor,  and  softly  wended  his  way 
homeward. 


190 


XXXII 

Difficult  days  arrived  for  Feodor  Ivanitch. 
He  found  himself  in  a  constant  fever.  Every 
morning  he  went  to  the  post-office,  with  excite- 
ment broke  the  seals  of  his  letters  and  newspapers, 
— and  nowhere  did  he  find  anything  which  might 
have  confirmed  or  refuted  the  fateful  rumour. 
Sometimes  he  became  repulsive  even  to  himself: 
'  Why  am  I  thus  waiting," — he  said  to  himself, 
'  like  a  crow  for  blood,  for  the  sure  news  of  my 
wife's  death  ? '  He  went  to  the  Kalitins'  every 
day;  but  even  there  he  was  no  more  at  his  ease: 
the  mistress  of  the  house  openly  sulked  at  him, 
received  him  with  condescension ;  Panshin  treated 
him  with  exaggerated  courtesy;  Lemm  had  be- 
come misanthropic,  and  hardly  even  bowed  to 
him, — and,  chief  of  all,  Liza  seemed  to  avoid 
him.  But  when  she  chanced  to  be  left  alone  witli 
him,  in  place  of  her  previous  trustfulness,  confu- 
sion manifested  itself  in  her:  she  did  not  know 
what  to  say  to  him,  and  he  himself  felt  agitation. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  Liza  had  become 
quite  different  from  herself  as  he  had  previously 
known  her:  in  her  movements,  her  voice,  in  her 
very  laugh,  a  secret  trepidation  was  perceptible, 

191 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

an  unevenness  which  had  not  heretofore  existed. 
Mary  a  Dmitrievna,  like  the  genuine  egoist  she 
was,  suspected  nothing;  but  Marfa  Timofeevna 
began  to  watch  her  favourite.  Lavretzky  more 
than  once  reproached  himself  with  having  shown 
to  Liza  the  copy  of  the  newspaper  which  he  had 
received:  he  could  not  fail  to  recognise  the  fact, 
that  in  his  spiritual  condition  there  was  an  ele- 
ment which  was  perturbing  to  pure  feeling.  He 
also  assumed  that  the  change  in  Liza  had  been 
brought  about  by  her  conflict  with  herself,  by 
her  doubts:  what  answer  should  she  give  to  Pan- 
shin?  One  day  she  brought  him  a  book,  one  of 
Walter  Scott's  novels,  which  she  herself  had 
asked  of  him. 

"  Have  you  read  this  book? " — he  asked. 

"  No ;  I  do  not  feel  in  a  mood  for  books  now," 
— she  replied,  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Wait  a  minute:  I  have  not  been  alone  with 
you  for  a  long  time.  You  seem  to  be  afraid  of 
me. 

"  Yes." 

"Why  so,  pray?" 

"  I  do  not  know." 

Lavretzky  said  nothing  for  a  while. 

"Tell  me," — he  began: — "you  have  not  yet 
made  up  your  mind?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that? " — she  said, 
without  raising  her  eyes. 

"  You  understand  me.  ..." 

192 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza  suddenly  flushed  up. 

"  Ask  me  no  questions  about  anything," — she 
ejaculated,  with  vivacity: — "  I  know  nothing,  I 
do  not  even  know  myself "  And  she  im- 
mediately beat  a  retreat. 

On  the  following  day,  Lavretzky  arrived  at  the 
Kalitins'  after  dinner,  and  found  all  prepara- 
tions made  to  have  the  All-Night  Vigil  service 
held  there.1  In  one  corner  of  the  dining-room, 
on  a  square  table,  covered  with  a  clean  cloth,  small 
holy  pictures  in  gold  settings,  with  tiny,  dull 
brilliants  in  their  halos,  were  already  placed, 
leaning  against  the  wall.  An  old  man-servant, 
in  a  grey  frock-coat  and  slippers,  walked  the 
whole  length  of  the  room  in  a  deliberate  manner, 
and  without  making  any  noise  with  his  heels,  and 
placed  two  wax  tapers  in  slender  candlesticks  in 
front  of  the  holy  images,  crossed  himself,  made 
a  reverence,  and  softly  withdrew.  The  unlighted 
drawing-room  was  deserted.  Lavretzky  walked 
down  the  dining-room,  and  inquired — was  it  not 
some  one's  Name-day?  He  was  answered,  in  a 
whisper,  that  it  was  not,  but  that  the  Vigil  ser- 
vice had  been  ordered  at  the  desire  of  Lizaveta 
Mikhaflovna  and  Marfa  Timofeevna;  that  the  in- 
tention had  been  to  bring  thither  the  wonder- 
working ikona,  but  it  had  gone  to  a  sick  person, 

1  This  service,  consisting  (generally)  of  Vespers  and  Matins,  can  be 
read  in  private  houses,  and  even  by  laymen :  whereas,  the  Liturgy,  or 
Mass,  must  be  celebrated  at  a  duly  consecrated  altar,  by  a  duly  or- 
dained priest.  —Translator. 

193 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

thirty  versts  distant.  There  soon  arrived,  also,  in 
company  with  the  chanters,  the  priest,  a  man 
no  longer  young,  with  a  small  bald  spot,  who 
coughed  loudly  in  the  anteroom;  the  ladies  all 
immediately  trooped  in  single  file  from  the  bou- 
doir, and  approached  to  receive  his  blessing; 
Lavretzky  saluted  him  in  silence ;  and  he  returned 
the  salute  in  silence.  The  priest  stood  still  for 
a  short  time,  then  cleared  his  throat  again,  and 
asked  in  a  low  tone,  with  a  bass  voice: 
"Do  you  command  me  to  proceed?" 
"  Proceed,  batiushka," — -replied  Mary  a  Dmi- 
trievna. 

He  began  to  vest  himself ;  the  chanter  obsequi- 
ously asked  for  a  live  coal;  the  incense  began  to 
diffuse  its  fragrance.  The  maids  and  lackeys 
emerged  from  the  anteroom  and  halted  in  a 
dense  throng  close  to  the  door.  Roska,  who 
never  came  down-stairs,  suddenly  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  the  dining-room:  they  began  to 
drive  him  out,  and  he  became  confused,  turned 
around  and  sat  down;  a  footman  picked  him 
up  and  carried  him  away.  The  Vigil  service 
began.  Lavretzky  pressed  himself  into  a  corner ; 
his  sensations  were  strange,  almost  melancholy; 
he  himself  was  not  able  clearly  to  make  out  what 
he  felt.  Marya  Dmitrievna  stood  in  front  of 
them  all,  before  an  arm-chair;  she  crossed  herself 
with  enervated  carelessness,  in  regular  lordly 
fashion, — now  glancing  around  her,  again  sud- 
denly casting  her  eyes  upward:  she  was  bored. 

194 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Marfa  Timofeevna  seemed  troubled;  Nastasya 
Karpovna  kept  prostrating  herself,  and  rising 
with  a  sort  of  modest,  soft  rustle;  Liza  took  up 
her  stand,  and  never  stirred  from  her  place,  never 
moved;  from  the  concentrated  expression  of  her 
countenance,  it  was  possible  to  divine  that  she 
was  praying  assiduously  and  fervently.  When 
she  kissed  the  cross,  at  the  end  of  the  service,  she 
also  kissed  the  priest's  large,  red  hand.  Marya 
Dmitrievna  invited  him  to  drink  tea;  he  took  off 
his  stole,  assumed  a  rather  secular  air,  and  passed 
into  the  drawing-room  with  the  ladies.  A  not 
over  animated  conversation  began.  The  priest 
drank  four  cups  of  tea,  incessantly  mopping  his 
bald  spot  with  his  handkerchief,  and  narrated, 
among  other  things,  that  merchant  Avoshnikoff 
had  contributed  seven  hundred  rubles  to  gild  the 
"  cupola '  of  the  church,  and  he  also  imparted 
a  sure  cure  for  freckles.  Lavretzky  tried  to  seat 
himself  beside  Liza,  but  she  maintained  a  severe, 
almost  harsh  demeanour,  and  never  once  glanced 
at  him;  she  appeared  to  be  deliberately  refrain- 
ing from  noticing  him;  a  certain  cold,  dignified 
rapture  had  descended  upon  her.  For  some  rea- 
son or  other,  Lavretzkv  felt  inclined  to  smile  un- 
interruptedly,  and  say  something  amusing;  but 
there  was  confusion  in  his  heart,  and  he  went 
away  at  last,  secretly  perplexed.  .  .  .  He  felt 
that  there  was  something  in  Liza  into  which  he 
could  not  penetrate. 

On  another  occasion,  Lavretzky,  as  he  sat  in 

195 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

the  drawing-room,  and  listened  to  the  insinuating 
but  heavy  chatter  of  Gedeonovsky,  suddenly 
turned  round,  without  himself  knowing  why  he 
did  so,  and  caught  a  deep,  attentive,  questioning 

gaze   in   Liza's   eyes It   was   riveted   on 

him,  that  puzzling  gaze,  afterward.  Lavretzky 
thought  about  it  all  night  long.  He  had  not 
fallen  in  love  in  boyish  fashion,  it  did  not  suit  him 
to  sigh  and  languish,  neither  did  Liza  arouse  that 
sort  of  sentiment;  but  love  has  its  sufferings  at 
every  age, — and  he  underwent  them  to  the  full. 


196 


XXXIII 

One  day,  according  to  his  custom,  Lavretzky  was 
sitting  at  the  Kalitins'.  A  fatiguingly-hot  day 
had  been  followed  by  so  fine  an  evening,  that 
Mary  a  Dmitrievna,  despite  her  aversion  to  the 
fresh  air,  had  ordered  all  the  windows  and  doors 
into  the  garden  to  be  opened,  and  had  announced 
that  she  would  not  play  cards,  that  it  was  a  sin 
to  play  cards  in  such  weather,  and  one  must  en- 
joy nature.  Panshin  was  the  only  visitor.  Tuned 
up  by  the  evening,  and  unwilling  to  sing  before 
Lavretzky,  yet  conscious  of  an  influx  of  artistic 
emotions,  he  turned  to  poetry:  he  recited  well, 
but  with  too  much  self -consciousness,  and  with 
unnecessary  subtleties,  several  of  LermontofF's 
poems  (at  that  time,  Pushkin  had  not  yet  become 
fashionable  again) — and,  all  at  once,  as  though 
ashamed  of  his  expansiveness,  he  began,  apropos 
of  the  familiar  "  Thought,"  to  upbraid  and 
reprove  the  present  generation;  in  that  connec- 
tion, not  missing  the  opportunity  to  set  forth, 
how  he  would  turn  everything  around  in  his  own 
way,  if  the  power  were  in  his  hands.  "  Russia," 
said  he, — "  has  lagged  behind  Europe;  she  must 
catch  up  with  it.  People  assert,  that  we  are  young 

197 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

— that  is  nonsense;  and  moreover,  that  we  pos- 
sess no  inventive  genius:  X  .  .  .  himself  admits 
that  we  have  not  even  invented  a  mouse-trap. 
Consequently,  we  are  compelled,  willy-nilly,  to 
borrow  from  others.  '  We  are  ill,' — says  Ler- 
montofF, — I  agree  with  him;  but  we  are  ill  be- 
cause we  have  only  half  converted  ourselves  into 
Europeans ;  that  is  where  we  have  made  our  mis- 
take, and  that  is  what  we  must  be  cured  of."  ("he 
cadastre" — thought  Lavretzky). — "The  best 
heads  among  us," — he  went  on, — "  les  meilleurs 
tetes — have  long  since  become  convinced  of  this; 
all  nations  are,  essentially,  alike;  only  introduce 
good  institutions,  and  there  's  an  end  of  the  mat- 
ter. One  may  even  conform  to  the  existing  na- 
tional life;  that  is  our  business,  the  business  of 
men  .  .  .  ."  (he  came  near  saying:  "of  states- 
men ")  "  who  are  in  the  service;  but,  in  case  of 
need,  be  not  uneasy:  the  institutions  will  trans- 
form that  same  existence."  Mary  a  Dmitrievna, 
with  emotion,  backed  up  Panshin.  "  What  a 
clever  man  this  is," — she  thought, — "  talking  in 
my  house!'  Liza  said  nothing,  as  she  leaned 
against  a  window-frame;  Lavretzky  also  main- 
tained silence ;  Marf  a  Timof  eevna,  who  was  play- 
ing cards  in  the  corner  with  her  friend,  muttered 
something  to  herself.  Panshin  strode  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  talked  eloquently,  but  with  a 
secret  spite:  he  seemed  to  be  scolding  not  the 
whole   race,   but   certain   individuals   of  his   ac- 

198 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

quaintance.  In  the  Kalitins'  garden,  in  a  large 
lilac-bush,  dwelt  a  nightingale,  whose  first  even- 
ing notes  rang  forth  in  the  intervals  of  this  elo- 
quent harangue;  the  first  stars  lighted  up  in  the 
rosy  sky,  above  the  motionless  crests  of  the  lin- 
dens. Lavretzky  rose,  and  began  to  reply  to 
Panshin;  an  argument  ensued.  Lavretzky  de- 
fended the  youth  and  independence  of  Russia; 
he  surrendered  himself,  his  generation  as  sacrifice, 
— but  upheld  the  new  men,  their  convictions,  and 
their  desires ;  Panshin  retorted  in  a  sharp  and  irri- 
tating way,  declared  that  clever  men  must  reform 
everything,  and  went  so  far,  at  last,  that,  forget- 
ting his  rank  of  Junior  Gentleman  of  the  Im- 
perial Bedchamber,  and  his  official  career,  he 
called  Lavretzky  a  "  laggard  conservative,"  he 
even  hinted, — in  a  very  remote  way,  it  is  true, — 
at  his  false  position  in  society.  Lavretzky  did 
not  get  angry,  did  not  raise  his  voice  (he  remem- 
bered that  Mikhalevitch  also  had  called  him  a 
laggard — only,  a  Voltairian) — and  calmly  van- 
quished Panshin  on  every  point.  He  demon- 
strated to  him  the  impossibility  of  leaps  and 
supercilious  reforms,  unjustified  either  by  a 
knowledge  of  the  native  land  or  actual  faith  in  an 
ideal,  even  a  negative  ideal ;  he  cited,  as  an  exam- 
ple, his  own  education,  and  demanded,  first  of  all, 
a  recognition  of  national  truth  and  submission  to 
it, — that  submission  without  which  even  boldness 
against  falsehood  is  impossible ;  he  did  not  evade, 

199 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

in  conclusion,  the  reproach — merited,  in  his  opin- 
ion— of  frivolous  waste  of  time  and  strength. 

"All  that  is  very  fine!" — exclaimed  the  en- 
raged Panshin,  at  last: — "Here,  you  have  re- 
turned to  Russia, — what  do  you  intend  to  do? ' 

"Till  the  soil," — replied  Lavretzky: — "and 
try  to  till  it  as  well  as  possible." 

"  That  is  very  praiseworthy,  there  's  no  dis- 
puting that," — rejoined  Panshin: — "  and  I  have 
been  told,  that  you  have  already  had  great  suc- 
cess in  that  direction;  but  you  must  admit,  that 
not  every  one  is  fitted  for  that  sort  of  occu- 
pation. .  .  " 

"  Une  nature  poetique" — began  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna, — "  of  course,  cannot  till  the  soil  .  .  .  .  et 
puis,  you  are  called,  Vladimir  Nikolaitch,  to  do 
everything  en  grand" 

This  was  too  much  even  for  Panshin:  he 
stopped  short,  and  the  conversation  stopped  short 
also.  He  tried  to  turn  it  on  the  beauty  of  the 
starry  sky,  on  Schubert's  music — but,  for  some 
reason,  it  would  not  run  smoothly;  he  ended,  by 
suggesting  to  Marya  Dmitrievna,  that  he  should 
play  picquet  with  her. — "What!  on  such  an 
evening?" — she  replied  feebly;  but  she  ordered 
the  cards  to  be  brought. 

Panshin,  with  a  crackling  noise,  tore  open  the 
fresh  pack,  while  Liza  and  Lavretzky,  as  though 
in  pursuance  of  an  agreement,  both  rose,  and 
placed    themselves    beside    Marfa    Timofeevna. 

200 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

They  both,  suddenly,  felt  so  very  much  at  ease 
that  they  were  even  afraid  to  be  left  alone  to- 
gether,— and,  at  the  same  time,  both  felt  that  the 
embarrassment  which  they  had  experienced  dur- 
ing the  last  few  days  had  vanished,  never  more 
to  return.  The  old  woman  stealthily  patted  La- 
vretzky  on  the  cheek,  slyly  screwed  up  her  eyes, 
and  shook  her  head  several  times,  remarking  in 
a  whisper:  "  Thou  hast  got  the  best  of  the  clever 
fellow,  thanks."  Everything  in  the  room  became 
still;  the  only  sound  was  the  faint  crackling  of 
the  wax  candles,  and,  now  and  then,  the  tapping 
of  hands  on  the  table,  and  an  exclamation,  or  the 
reckoning  of  the  spots, — and  the  song,  mighty, 
resonant  to  the  verge  of  daring,  of  the  night- 
ingale, poured  in  a  broad  stream  through  the 
window,  in  company  with  the  dewy  coolness. 


201 


XXXIV 

Liza  had  not  uttered  a  single  word  during  the 
course  of  the  dispute  between  Lavretzky  and 
Panshin,  but  had  attentively  followed  it,  and  had 
been  entirely  on  Lavretzky's  side.  Politics  pos- 
sessed very  little  interest  for  her;  but  the  self- 
confident  tone  of  the  fashionable  official  (he  had 
never,  hitherto,  so  completely  expressed  himself) 
had  repelled  her ;  his  scorn  of  Russia  had  wounded 
her.  It  had  never  entered  Liza's  head,  that  she 
was  a  patriot;  but  she  was  at  her  ease  with  Rus- 
sian people ;  the  Russian  turn  of  mind  gladdened 
her;  without  any  affectation,  for  hours  at  a  time, 
she  chatted  with  the  overseer  of  her  mother's  es- 
tate, when  he  came  to  town,  and  talked  with  him 
as  with  an  equal,  without  any  lordly  condescen- 
sion. Lavretzky  felt  all  this:  he  would  not  have 
undertaken  to  reply  to  Panshin  alone;  he  had 
been  talking  for  Liza  only.  They  said  nothing 
to  each  other,  even  their  eyes  met  but  rarely ;  but 
both  understood  that  they  had  come  very  close 
together  that  evening,  understood  that  they 
loved  and  did  not  love  the  same  things.  On  only 
one  point  did  they  differ ;  but  Liza  secretly  hoped 
to  bring  him  to  God.     They  sat  beside  Marfa 

202 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Timofeevna,  and  appeared  to  be  watching  her 
play;  and  they  really  were  watching  it, — but,  in 
the  meanwhile,  their  hearts  had  waxed  great  in 
their  bosoms,  and  nothing  escaped  them :  for  them 
the  nightingale  was  singing,  the  stars  were  shin- 
ing, and  the  trees  were  softly  whispering,  lulled 
both  by  slumber  and  by  the  softness  of  the  sum- 
mer, and  by  the  warmth.  Lavretzky  surrendered 
himself  wholly  to  the  billow  which  was  bearing 
him  onward, — and  rejoiced;  but  no  word  can  ex- 
press that  which  took  place  in  the  young  girl's 
pure  soul:  it  was  a  secret  to  herself;  so  let  it 
remain  for  all  others.  No  one  knows,  no  one  has 
seen,  and  no  one  ever  will  see,  how  that  which  is 
called  into  life  and  blossom  pours  forth  and  ma- 
tures grain  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 

The  clock  struck  ten.  Marfa  Timofeevna  went 
off  to  her  rooms  up-stairs,  with  Nastasya  Kar- 
povna;  Lavretzky  and  Liza  strolled  through  the 
room,  halted  in  front  of  the  open  door  to  the 
garden,  gazed  into  the  dark  distance,  then  at  each 
other — and  smiled;  they  would  have  liked,  it  ap- 
peared, to  take  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  talk 
their  fill.  They  returned  to  Marya  Dmitrievna 
and  Panshin,  whose  picquet  had  become  pro- 
tracted. The  last  "  king '  came  to  an  end  at 
length,  and  the  hostess  rose,  groaning  and  sigh- 
ing, from  the  cushion -garnished  arm-chair;  Pan- 
shin  took  his  hat,  kissed  Marya  Dmitrievna's 
hand,  remarked  that  nothing  now  prevented  other 

203 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

happy  mortals  from  going  to  bed,  or  enjoying 
the  night,  but  that  he  must  sit  over  stupid  papers 
until  the  morning  dawned,  bowed  coldly  to  Liza 
(he  had  not  expected  that  in  reply  to  his  offer 
of  marriage,  she  would  ask  him  to  wait, — and 
therefore  he  was  sulking  at  her) — and  went 
away.  Lavretzky  followed  him.  At  the  gate 
they  parted;  Panshin  aroused  his  coachman  by 
poking  him  with  the  tip  of  his  cane  in  the  neck, 
seated  himself  in  his  drozhky,  and  drove  off.  La- 
vretzky did  not  feel  like  going  home;  he  walked 
out  beyond  the  town,  into  the  fields.  The  night 
was  tranquil  and  bright,  although  there  was  no 
moon ;  Lavretzky  roamed  about  on  the  dewy  grass 
for  a  long  time;  he  came  by  accident  upon  a 
narrow  path;  he  walked  along  it.  It  led  him  to 
a  long  fence,  to  a  wicket-gate;  he  tried,  without 
himself  knowing  why,  to  push  it  open :  it  creaked 
softly,  and  opened,  as  though  it  had  been  await- 
ing the  pressure  of  hie  hand;  Lavretzky  found 
himself  in  a  garden,  advanced  a  few  paces  along 
an  avenue  of  lindens,  and  suddenly  stopped  short 
in  amazement:  he  recognised  the  garden  of  the 
Kalitins. 

He  immediately  stepped  into  a  black  blot  of 
shadow  which  was  cast  by  a  thick  hazel-bush,  and 
stood  for  a  long  time  motionless,  wondering  and 
shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"  This  has  not  happened  for  nothing,"  he 
thought. 

204 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Everything  was  silent  round  about ;  not  a  sound 
was  borne  to  him  from  the  direction  of  the  house. 
He  cautiously  advanced.  Lo,  at  the  turn  in  the 
avenue,  the  whole  house  suddenly  gazed  at  him 
with  its  dark  front ;  only  in  two  of  the  upper  win- 
dows were  lights  twinkling:  in  Liza's  room,  a 
candle  was  burning  behind  a  white  shade,  and  in 
Marfa  Timofeevna's  bedroom  a  shrine-lamp  was 
glowing  with  a  red  gleam  in  front  of  the  holy 
pictures,  reflecting  itself  in  an  even  halo  in  the 
golden  settings;  down-stairs,  the  door  lead- 
ing out  on  the  balcony  yawned  broadly,  as  it  stood 
wide  open.  Lavretzky  seated  himself  on  a 
wooden  bench,  propped  his  head  on  his  hand,  and 
began  to  gaze  at  the  door  and  the  window.  Mid- 
night struck  in  the  town;  in  the  house,  the  small 
clocks  shrilly  rang  out  twelve ;  the  watchman  beat 
with  a  riffle  of  taps  on  the  board.  Lavretzky 
thought  of  nothing,  expected  nothing;  it  was 
pleasant  to  him  to  feel  himself  near  Liza,  to  sit  in 
her  garden  on  the  bench,  where  she  also  had  sat 

more  than  once The  light  disappeared  in 

Liza's  room. 

"  Good  night,  my  dear  girl,"  whispered  La- 
vretzky, as  he  continued  to  sit  motionless,  and 
without  taking  his  eyes  from  the  darkened 
window. 

Suddenly  a  light  appeared  in  one  of  the  win- 
dows of  the  lower  storey,  passed  to  a  second,  a 
third.  .  .  .  Some  one  was  walking  through  the 

205 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

rooms  with  a  candle.  "  Can  it  be  Liza?  Im- 
possible !"....  Lavretzky  half  rose  to  his  feet. 
A  familial*  figure  flitted  past,  and  Liza  made  her 
appearance  in  the  drawing-room.  In  a  white 
gown,  with  her  hair  hanging  loosely  on  her 
shoulders,  she  softly  approached  a  table,  bent  over 
it,  set  down  the  candle,  and  searched  for  some- 
thing ;  then,  turning  her  face  toward  the  garden, 
she  approached  the  open  door,  and,  all  white, 
light,  graceful,  paused  on  the  threshold.  A 
quiver  ran  through  Lavretzky's  limbs. 

"  Liza!  " — burst  from  his  lips,  in  barely  audi- 
ble tones. 

She  started,  and  began  to  stare  into  the  dark- 
ness. 

"Liza!" — repeated  Lavretzky  more  loudly, 
and  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  avenue. 

Liza,  in  alarm,  stretched  forth  her  head,  and 
staggered  backward.  He  called  her  for  the  third 
time,  and  held  out  his  arms  toward  her.  She  left 
the  door,  and  advanced  into  the  garden. 

"  Is  it  you?" — she  said. — "  Are  you  here? ' 

"  It  is  I I  .  .  .  listen  to  me," — whispered 

Lavretzky,  and,  grasping  her  hand,  he  led  her  to 
the  bench. 

She  followed  him  without  resistance;  her  pale 
face,  her  impassive  eyes,  all  her  movements,  were 
expressive  of  unutterable  amazement.  Lavret- 
zky seated  her  on  the  bench,  and  himself  took  up 
his  stand  in  front  of  her. 

206 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  I  had  no  thought  of  coming  hither," — he  be- 
gan:— "  I  came  hither  by  chance I  .  .  .  . 

I  ...  I  love  you," — he  said,  with  involuntary 
terror. 

Liza  slowly  glanced  at  him;  apparently,  she 
had  only  that  moment  comprehended  where  she 
was,  and  that  she  was  with  him.  She  tried  to 
rise,  but  could  not,  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands. 

'Liza," — said  Lavretzky: — "Liza," — he  re- 
peated, and  bowed  down  at  her  feet.  .  .  . 

Her  shoulders  began  to  quiver  slightly,  the 
fingers  of  her  pale  hands  were  pressed  more 
tightly  to  her  face. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  " — Lavretzky 
uttered,  and  caught  the  sound  of  soft  sobbing. 
His  heart  turned  cold.  .  .  .  He  understood  the 
meaning  of  those  tears.  "  Can  it  be  that  you 
love  me?  " — he  whispered,  and  touched  her  knee. 

"Rise,"  he  heard  her  voice: — "rise,  Feodor 
Ivanitch.  What  is  this  that  you  and  I  are 
doing? " 

He  rose,  and  seated  himself  bv  her  side  on  the 
bench.  She  was  no  longer  weeping,  but  was 
gazing  attentively  at  him  with  her  wet  eyes. 

"  I  am  frightened:  what  are  we  doing?  " — she 
repeated. 

'  I  love  you," — he  said  again: — "  I  am  ready 
to  give  the  whole  of  my  life  to  you." 

Again   she   shuddered,   as   though   something 

207 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

had  stung  her,  and  raised  her  gaze  heaven- 
ward. 

"  All  this  is  in  God's  power," — she  said. 

"  But  do  you  love  me,  Liza?  Shall  we  be 
happy? " 

She  dropped  her  eyes;  he  softly  drew  her  to 
him,  and  her  head  sank  upon  his  shoulder.  .  .  . 
He  turned  her  head  a  little  to  one  side,  and 
touched  her  pale  lips. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Lavretzky  was  standing  be- 
fore the  wicket.  He  found  it  locked,  and  was 
obliged  to  leap  across  the  fence.  He  returned 
to  the  town,  and  walked  through  the  sleeping 
streets.  A  sensation  of  great,  of  unexpected 
happiness  rilled  his  soul;  all  doubts  had  died 
within  him.  "  Vanish,  past,  dark  spectre,"  he 
thought:  "  she  loves  me,  she  will  be  mine."  All 
at  once,  it  seemed  to  him  that  in  the  air,  over  his 
head,  wondrous,  triumphant  sounds  rang  out; 
the  sounds  rolled  on  still  more  magnificently;  in 
a  chanting,  mighty  flood  they  streamed  on, — and 
in  them,  so  it  seemed,  all  his  happiness  was  speak- 
ing and  singing.  He  glanced  around  him:  the 
sounds  were  floating  from  two  upper  windows 
of  a  tiny  house. 

"Lemm!" — cried  Lavretzky,  and  ran  to  the 
house. — "  Lemm!  Lemm!  " — he  repeated  loudly. 

The  sounds  died  away,  and  the  figure  of  the 
old  man  in  his  dressing-gown,  with  breast  bare, 

208 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  hair  dishevelled,  made  its  appearance  at  the 
window. 

"Aha!" — he    said,    with    dignity: — "is    that 
you?" 

"  Christofor  Feodoritch!  what  splendid  music! 
For  God's  sake,  let  me  in." 

The  old  man,  without  uttering  a  word,  with 
a  majestic  movement  of  the  arm  flung  the  door- 
key  out  of  the  window  into  the  street.  Lavretzky 
briskly  ran  up-stairs,  entered  the  room,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  rushing  at  Lemm,  but  the  latter 
imperiously  motioned  him  to  a  chair;  he  said, 
abruptly,  in  Russian:  "Sit  down  and  listen!' 
seated  himself  at  the  piano,  gazed  proudly  and 
sternly  about  him,  and  began  to  play.  It  was 
long  since  Lavretzky  had  heard  anything  of  the 
sort:  a  sweet,  passionate  melody,  which  gripped 
the  heart  from  its  very  first  notes ;  it  was  all  beam- 
ing and  languishing  with  inspiration,  with  hap- 
piness, with  beauty;  it  swelled  and  melted  away; 
it  touched  everything  which  exists  on  earth  of 
precious,  mysterious,  holy;  it  breathed  forth 
deathless  sadness,  and  floated  away  to  die  in 
heaven.  Lavretzky  straightened  himself  up  and 
stood  there,  cold  and  pale  with  rapture.  Those 
sounds  fairly  sank  into  his  soul,  which  had  only 
just  been  shaken  with  the  bliss  of  love ;  they  them- 
selves were  flaming  with  love.  '  Repeat  it," — 
he  whispered,  as  soon  as  the  last  chord  resounded. 
The  old  man  cast  upon  him  an  eagle  glance, 

209 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

struck  his  breast  with  his  hand,  and  saying  delib- 
erately, in  his  native  language: — "  I  made  that, 
for  I  am  a  great  musician," — he  again  played  his 
wonderful  composition.  There  was  no  candle 
in  the  room;  the  light  of  the  rising  moon  fell 
aslant  through  the  window;  the  sensitive  air 
trembled  resonantly;  the  pale,  little  room  seemed 
a  sanctuary,  and  the  head  of  the  old  man  rose 
high  and  inspired  in  the  silvery  semi-darkness. 
Lavretzky  approached  and  embraced  him.  At 
first,  Lemm  did  not  respond  to  his  embrace,  he 
even  repulsed  it  with  his  elbow;  for  a  long  time, 
without  moving  a  single  limb,  he  continued  to 
gaze  forth,  as  before,  sternly,  almost  roughly, 
and  only  bellowed  a  couple  of  times:  'Aha!' 
At  last  his  transfigured  face  grew  calm,  relaxed, 
and,  in  reply  to  Lavretzky's  warm  congratula- 
tions, he  first  smiled  a  little,  then  fell  to  weeping, 
feebly  sobbing  like  a  child. 

"This  is  marvellous," — he  said: — "that  pre- 
cisely you  should  now  have  come ;  but  I  know — I 
know  all." 

"You  know  all?" — ejaculated  Lavretzky,  in 
confusion. 

"You  have  heard  me," — returned  Lemm: — 
"  have  not  you  understood  that  I  know  all? ' 

Lavretzky  could  not  get  to  sleep  until  the 
morning:  all  night  long,  he  sat  on  his  bed.  And 
Liza  did  not  sleep:  she  prayed. 


210 


XXXV 

The  reader  knows  how  Lavretzky  had  grown  up 
and  developed;  let  us  say  a  few  words  about 
Liza's  bringing  up.  She  was  ten  years  old  when 
her  father  died;  but  he  had  paid  little  heed  to 
her.  Overwhelmed  with  business,  constantly  ab- 
sorbed in  increasing  his  property,  splenetic, 
harsh,  impatient,  he  furnished  money  unsparingly 
for  teachers,  tutors,  clothing,  and  the  other  wants 
of  the  children;  but  he  could  not  endure,  as  he 
expressed  it,  "  to  dandle  the  squalling  brats," — 
and  he  had  no  time  to  dandle  them:  he  worked, 
toiled  over  his  business,  slept  little,  occasionally 
played  cards,  worked  again ;  he  compared  himself 
to  a  horse  harnessed  to  a  threshing-machine. 
"  My  life  has  rushed  by  fast,"  he  said  on  his  death- 
bed, with  a  proud  smile  on  his  parched  lips. 
Marya  Dmitrievna,  in  reality,  troubled  herself 
about  Liza  hardly  more  than  did  the  father,  al- 
though she  had  boasted  to  Lavretzky  that  she 
alone  had  reared  her  children;  she  had  dressed 
Liza  like  a  doll,  in  the  presence  of  visitors  had 
patted  her  on  the  head,  and  called  her,  to  her  face, 
a  clever  child  and  a  darling — and  that  was  all: 
any  regular  care  wearied  the  lazy  gentlewoman. 

211 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

During  her  father's  lifetime,  Liza  had  been  in  the 
hands  of  a  governess,  Mile.  Moreau,  from  Paris, 
and  after  his  death  she  had  passed  into  the  charge 
of  Marfa  Timofeevna.  The  reader  is  acquainted 
with  Marf a  Timofeevna ;  but  Mile.  Moreau  was  a 
tiny,  wrinkled  creature,  with  birdlike  ways  and  a 
tiny,  birdlike  mind.  In  her  youth  she  had  led 
a  very  dissipated  life,  and  in  her  riper  years  she 
had  but  two  passions  left — for  dainties  and  for 
cards.  When  she  was  gorged,  was  not  playing 
cards,  and  not  chattering,  her  face  instantly  as- 
sumed an  almost  deathlike  expression:  she  would 
sit,  and  gaze,  and  breathe,  and  it  was  evident 
that  no  thought  was  passing  through  her  head. 
It  was  not  even  possible  to  call  her  good- 
natured:  there  are  also  birds  which  are  not  good- 
natured.  Whether  it  was  in  consequence  of  her 
frivolously-spent  youth,  or  of  the  Paris  air,  which 
she  had  breathed  since  her  childhood, — she  har- 
boured within  her  a  certain  cheap,  general 
scepticism,  which  is  usually  expressed  by  the 
words :  ' '  tout  fa  c'est  des  betises."  She  talked 
an  irregular,  but  purely  Parisian  jargon,  did  not 
gossip,  was  not  capricious, — and  what  more  could 
be  desired  in  a  governess?  On  Liza  she  had  little 
influence;  all  the  more  powerful  upon  her  was 
the  influence  of  her  nurse,  Agafya  Vlasievna. 

The  lot  of  this  woman  was  remarkable.  She 
sprang  from  a  peasant  family;  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen, they  married  her  to  a  peasant;  but  there 

212 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

was  a  sharp  distinction  between  her  and  her  sister- 
peasant  women.  For  twenty  years  her  father 
had  been  the  village  elder,  had  accumulated  a 
good  deal  of  money,  and  had  petted  her.  She  was 
a  wonderful  beauty,  the  most  dashingly-elegant 
peasant  maid  in  all  the  country  round  about, 
clever,  a  good  talker,  daring.  Her  master,  Dmi- 
try Pestoff,  the  father  of  Marya  Dmitrievna,  a 
modest,  quiet  man,  caught  sight  of  her  one  day 
at  the  threshing,  talked  with  her,  and  fell  passion- 
ately in  love  with  her. 

Soon  afterward,  she  became  a  widow ;  Pestoff, 
although  he  was  a  married  man,  took  her  into  his 
house,  and  clothed  her  in  the  style  of  a  house- 
servant.  Agafya  immediately  accommodated 
herself  to  her  new  position,  exactly  as  though  she 
had  never  lived  in  any  other  way.  Her  skin  be- 
came white,  she  grew  plump;  her  arms,  under 
their  muslin  sleeves,  became  "  like  fine  wheat 
flour,"  like  those  of  a  cook;  the  samovar  stood 
constantly  on  her  table;  she  would  wear  nothing 
but  velvet  and  silk,  she  slept  on  a  feather-bed  of 
down.  This  blissful  life  lasted  for  the  space  of 
five  years;  but  Dmitry  Pestoff  died:  his  widow, 
a  good-natured  gentlewoman,  desirous  of  sparing 
her  husband's  memory,  was  not  willing  to  be- 
have dishonourably  toward  her  rival,  the  more 
so,  as  Agafya  had  never  forgotten  herself  before 
her;  but  she  married  her  to  the  cow-herd,  and 
sent  her  out  of  her  sight.     Three  years  passed. 

213 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Once,  on  a  hot  summer  day,  the  lady  of  the  manor 
went  to  her  dairy.  Agafya  treated  her  to  such 
splendid  cold  cream,  bore  herself  so  modestly,  and 
was  so  neat  in  person,  and  so  cheerful  and  satis- 
fied with  everything,  that  her  mistress  announced 
to  her  her  pardon,  and  permitted  her  to  come  to 
the  manor-house;  and  six  months  later,  she  had 
become  so  attached  to  her,  that  she  promoted  her 
to  the  post  of  housekeeper,  and  entrusted  the  en- 
tire management  to  her.  Again  Agafya  came 
into  power,  again  she  grew  plump  and  white- 
skinned;  her  mistress  had  complete  confidence 
in  her.  In  this  manner,  five  more  years  elapsed. 
Again  misfortune  fell  upon  Agafya.  Her  hus- 
band, whom  she  had  had  raised  to  the  post  of  foot- 
man, took  to  drink,  began  to  disappear  from  the 
house,  and  wound  up  by  stealing  six  of  the  fam- 
ily's silver  spoons,  and  hiding  them — until  a  con- 
venient opportunity — in  his  wife's  chest.  This 
was  discovered.  He  was  again  degraded  to  the 
rank  of  cow-herd,  and  a  sentence  of  disgrace  was 
pronounced  upon  Agafya;  she  was  not  banished 
from  the  house,  but  she  was  reduced  from  the 
place  of  housekeeper  to  that  of  seamstress,  and 
ordered  to  wear  a  kerchief  on  her  head,  instead 
of  a  cap.  To  the  amazement  of  all,  Agafya  ac- 
cepted the  blow  which  had  overtaken  her  with 
humble  submission.  She  was  then  over  thirty 
years  of  age,  all  her  children  had  died,  and  her 
husband  did  not  long  survive.    The  time  had  ar- 

214 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

rived  for  her  to  come  to  a  sense  of  her  position; 
she  did  so.  She  became  very  taciturn  and  devout, 
never  missed  a  single  Matins  service,  nor  a  single 
Liturgy,  and  gave  away  all  her  fine  clothes.  Fif- 
teen years  she  spent  quietly,  peacefully,  with  dig- 
nity, quarrelling  with  no  one,  yielding  to  every 
one.  If  any  one  spoke  rudely  to  her, — she  merely 
bowed,  and  returned  thanks  for  the  lesson.  Her 
mistress  had  forgiven  her  long  since,  had  re- 
moved the  ban  from  her,  and  had  given  her  a 
cap  from  her  own  head;  but  she  herself  refused 
to  remove  her  kerchief,  and  always  went  about 
in  a  dark-hued  gown ;  and  after  the  death  of  her 
mistress,  she  became  still  more  quiet  and  humble. 
A  Russian  easily  conceives  fear  and  affection; 
but  it  is  difficult  to  win  his  respect :  it  is  not  soon 
given,  nor  to  every  one.  Every  one  in  the  house 
respected  Agafya;  no  one  even  recalled  her  for- 
mer sins,  as  though  they  had  been  buried  in  the 
earth,  along  with  the  old  master. 

When  Kalitin  became  the  husband  of  Marya 
Dmitrievna,  he  wished  to  entrust  the  housekeep- 
ing to  Agafya;  but  she  declined,  "  because  of  the 
temptation  ";  he  roared  at  her,  she  made  him  a 
lowly  reverence,  and  left  the  room.  The  clever 
Kalitin  understood  people;  and  he  also  under- 
stood Agafya,  and  did  not  forget  her.  On  re- 
moving his  residence  to  the  town,  he  appointed 
her,  with  her  own  consent,  as  nurse  to  Liza,  who 
had  just  entered  her  fifth  year. 

215 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

At  first,  Liza  was  frightened  by  the  serious 
and  stern  face  of  her  new  nurse ;  but  she  speedily 
became  accustomed  to  her,  and  conceived  a  strong 
affection  for  her.  She  herself  was  a  serious  child ; 
her  features  recalled  the  clear-cut,  regular  face 
of  Kalitin;  only,  she  had  not  her  father's  eyes; 
hers  beamed  with  a  tranquil  attention  and  kind- 
ness which  are  rare  in  children.  She  did  not  like 
to  play  with  dolls,  her  laughter  was  neither  loud 
nor  long,  she  bore  herself  with  decorum.  She 
was  not  often  thoughtful,  and  was  never  so  with- 
out cause;  after  remaining  silent  for  a  time,  she 
almost  always  ended  by  turning  to  some  one  of 
her  elders,  with  a  question  which  showed  that  her 
brain  was  working  over  a  new  impression.  She 
very  early  ceased  to  lisp,  and  already  in  her  fourth 
year  she  spoke  with  perfect  distinctness.  She 
was  afraid  of  her  father;  her  feeling  toward  her 
mother  was  undefined, — she  did  not  fear  her, 
neither  did  she  fondle  her ;  but  she  did  not  fondle 
Agafya  either,  although  she  loved  only  her  alone. 
Agafya  and  she  were  never  separated.  It  was 
strange  to  see  them  together.  Agafya,  all  in 
black,  with  a  dark  kerchief  on  her  head,  with  a  face 
thin  and  transparent  as  wax,  yet  still  beautiful 
and  expressive,  would  sit  upright,  engaged  in 
knitting  a  stocking;  at  her  feet,  in  a  little  arm- 
chair, sat  Liza,  also  toiling  over  some  sort  of 
work,  or,  with  her  bright  eyes  uplifted  gravely, 
listening  to  what  Agafya  was  relating  to  her,  and 

216 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Agafya  did  not  tell  her  fairy-stories;  in  a  meas- 
ured, even  voice,  she  would  narrate  the  life  of  the 
Most-pure  Virgin,  the  lives  of  the  hermits,  the 
saints  of  God,  of  the  holy  martyrs ;  she  would  tell 
Liza  how  the  holy  men  lived  in  the  deserts,  how 
they  worked  out  their  salvation,  endured  hunger 
and  want, — and,  fearing  not  kings,  confessed 
Christ;  how  the  birds  of  heaven  brought  them 
food,  and  the  wild  beasts  obeyed  them;  how  on 
those  spots  where  their  blood  fell,  flowers  sprang 
up.— «"  Yellow  violets?" — one  day  asked  Liza, 
who  was  very  fond  of  flowers.  .  .  .  Agafya 
talked  gravely  and  meekly  to  Liza,  as  though  she 
felt  that  it  was  not  for  her  to  utter  such  lofty  and 
sacred  words.  Liza  listened  to  her — and  the 
image  of  the  Omnipresent,  Omniscient  God  pene- 
trated into  her  soul  with  a  certain  sweet  power, 
filled  her  with  pure,  devout  awe,  and  Christ  be- 
came for  her  a  person  close  to  her,  almost  a  rela- 
tive: and  Agafya  taught  her  to  pray.  Some- 
times she  woke  Liza  early,  at  daybreak,  hastily 
dressed  her,  and  surreptitiously  took  her  to 
Matins:  Liza  followed  her  on  tiptoe,  hardly 
breathing;  the  chill  and  semi-obscurity  of  the 
dawn,  the  freshness  and  emptiness  of  the  streets, 
the  very  mysteriousness  of  these  unexpected  ab- 
sences, the  cautious  return  to  the  house,  to  bed, — 
all  this  mingling  of  the  forbidden,  the  strange, 
the  holy,  agitated  the  little  girl,  penetrated  into 
the  very  depths  of  her  being.    Agafya  never  con- 

217 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

demned  anybody,  and  did  not  scold  Liza  for  her 
pranks.  When  she  was  displeased  over  anything, 
she  simply  held  her  peace;  and  Liza  understood 
that  silence ;  with  the  swift  perspicacity  of  a  child, 
she  also  understood  very  well  when  Agafya  was 
displeased  with  other  people — with  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna  herself,  or  with  Kalitin.  Agafya  took 
care  of  Liza  for  a  little  more  than  three  years; 
she  was  replaced  by  Mile.  Moreau ;  but  the  frivo- 
lous Frenchwoman,  with  her  harsh  manners  and 
her  exclamation :  "  tout  fa  c'est  des  betises" — 
could  not  erase  from  Liza's  heart  her  beloved 
nurse:  the  seeds  which  had  been  sown  had  struck 
down  roots  too  deep.  Moreover,  Agafya,  al- 
though she  had  ceased  to  have  charge  of  Liza,  re- 
mained in  the  house,  and  often  saw  her  nursling, 
who  confided  in  her  as  before. 

But  Agafya  could  not  get  along  with  Marfa 
Timofeevna,  when  the  latter  came  to  live  in  the 
Kalitin  house.  The  stern  dignity  of  the  former 
"  peasant  woman  "  did  not  please  the  impatient 
and  self-willed  old  woman.  Agafya  begged  per- 
mission to  go  on  a  pilgrimage,  and  did  not  return. 
Dark  rumours  circulated,  to  the  effect  that  she 
had  withdrawn  to  a  convent  of  Old  Ritualists. 
But  the  traces  left  by  her  in  Liza's  soul  were  not 
effaced.  As  before,  the  latter  went  to  the  Liturgy 
as  to  a  festival,  prayed  with  delight,  with  a  cer- 
tain repressed  and  bashful  enthusiasm,  which  se- 
cretly amazed  Marya  Dmitrievna  not  a  little,  al- 

218 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

though  she  put  no  constraint  upon  Liza,  but 
merely  endeavoured  to  moderate  her  zeal,  and  did 
not  permit  her  to  make  an  excessive  number  of 
prostrations:  that  was  not  lady-like  manners,  she 
said.  Liza  studied  well, — that  is  to  say,  assidu- 
ously ;  God  had  not  endowed  her  with  particularly 
brilliant  capacities,  with  a  great  mind;  she  ac- 
quired nothing  without  labour.  She  played  well 
on  the  piano ;  but  Lemm  alone  knew  what  it  cost 
her.  She  read  little ;  she  had  no  "  words  of  her 
own,"  but  she  had  thoughts  of  her  own,  and  she 
went  her  own  way.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that 
she  resembled  her  father:  he,  also,  had  not  been 
wont  to  ask  others  what  he  should  do.  Thus  she 
grew  up — quietly,  at  leisure;  thus  she  attained 
her  nineteenth  year.  She  was  very  pretty,  with- 
out herself  being  aware  of  the  fact.  An  uncon- 
scious, rather  awkward  grace  revealed  itself  in  her 
every  movement;  her  voice  rang  with  the  silvery 
sound  of  unaffected  youth,  the  slightest  sensa- 
tion of  pleasure  evoked  a  winning  smile  on  her 
lips,  imparted  a  deep  gleam  and  a  certain  mys- 
terious caress  to  her  sparkling  eyes.  Thoroughly 
imbued  with  the  sense  of  duty,  with  the  fear  of 
wounding  any  one  whatsoever,  with  a  kind  and 
gentle  heart,  she  loved  every  one  in  general,  and 
no  one  in  particular;  God  alone  she  loved  with 
rapture,  timidly,  tenderly.  Lavretzky  was  the 
first  to  break  in  upon  her  tranquil  inner  life. 
Such  was  Liza. 

219 


XXXVI 

At  twelve  o'clock  on  the  following  day,  La- 
vretzky set  out  for  the  Kalitins'.  On  the  way 
thither,  he  met  Panshin,  who  galloped  past  him 
on  horseback,  with  his  hat  pulled  down  to  his 
very  eyebrows.  At  the  Kalitins',  Lavretzky  was 
not  admitted, — for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
known  them.  Marya  Dmitrievna  was  '  lying 
down," — so  the  lackey  announced;  "they"  had 
a  headache.  Neither  Marfa  Timofeevna  nor 
Lizaveta  Mikhailovna  was  at  home.  Lavretzky 
strolled  along  the  garden,  in  anxious  hope  of 
meeting  Liza,  but  saw  no  one.  He  returned  a 
couple  of  hours  later,  and  received  the  same  an- 
swer, in  connection  with  which  the  lackey  be- 
stowed a  sidelong  glance  upon  him.  It  seemed 
to  Lavretzky  impolite  to  intrude  himself  upon 
them  for  a  third  time  that  day — and  he  decided 
to  drive  out  to  Vasilievskoe,  where,  without  ref- 
erence to  this,  he  had  business  to  attend  to.  On 
the  way  he  constructed  various  plans,  each  more 
beautiful  than  the  other ;  but  in  his  aunt's  hamlet, 
sadness  fell  upon  him;  he  entered  into  conversa- 
tion with  Anton;  the  old  man,  as  though  ex- 
pressly, had  nothing  but  cheerless  thoughts  in  his 

220 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

mind.  He  narrated  to  Lavretzky,  how  Glafira 
Petrovna,  before  her  death,  had  bitten  her  own 
hand, — and,  after  a  short  pause,  he  added: 
"  Every  man,  master — dear  little  father,  is  given 
to  devouring  himself."  It  was  already  late  when 
Lavretzky  set  out  on  the  return  journey.  The 
sounds  of  the  preceding  day  took  possession  of 
him,  the  image  of  Liza  arose  in  his  soul  in  all  its 
gentle  transparency;  he  melted  at  the  thought 
that  she  loved  him, — and  drove  up  to  his  little 
town-house  in  a  composed  and  happy  frame  of 
mind. 

The  first  thing  which  struck  him  on  entering 
the  anteroom  was  the  scent  of  patchouli,  which 
was  very  repulsive  to  him;  several  tall  trunks 
and  coffers  were  standing  there.  The  face  of  the 
valet  who  ran  forth  to  receive  him  seemed  to  him 
strange.  Without  accounting  to  himself  for  his 
impressions,  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  draw- 
ing-room  From  the  couch  there  rose  to 

greet  him  a  lady  in  a  black  gown  with  flounces, 
and  raising  a  batiste  handkerchief  to  her  pale 
face,  she  advanced  several  paces,  bent  her  care- 
fully-dressed head, — and  fell  at  his  feet.  .  .  . 
Then  only  did  he  recognise  her:  the  lady  was — 
his  wife. 

It  took  his  breath  away.  .  .  He  leaned  against 
the  wall. 

"  Theodore,  do  not  drive  me  away!  " — she  said 
in  French,  and  her  voice  cut  his  heart  like  a  knife. 

221 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

He  glanced  at  her  without  comprehending,  yet 
he  immediately  noticed  that  she  had  grown  pale 
and  thin. 

"  Theodore," — she  went  on,  from  time  to  time 
raising  her  eyes,  and  cautiously  wringing  her 
wondrously-beautiful  ringers,  with  rosy,  polished 
nails: — "  Theodore,  I  am  to  blame  toward  you, 
deeply  to  blame, — I  will  say  more,  I  am  a  crim- 
inal ;  but  do  you  listen  to  me ;  repentance  tortures 
me,  I  have  become  a  burden  to  myself,  I  could 
not  longer  endure  my  position;  how  many  times 
have  I  meditated  returning  to  you,  but  I  feared 
your  wrath ; — I  have  decided  to  break  every  con- 
nection with  the  past ....  puis,  j'ai  ete  si  malade, 
— I  have  been  so  ill," — she  added,  and  passed  her 
hand  across  her  brow  and  her  cheek, — "  I  have 
taken  advantage  of  the  rumour  of  my  death  which 
had  got  into  circulation,  I  have  abandoned  every- 
thing; without  halting,  day  and  night  I  have 
hastened  hither;  I  have  hesitated,  for  a  long  time, 
to  present  myself  before  you,  my  judge — paraitre 
devant  vous,  mon  juge, — but,  at  last,  I  made  up 
my  mind,  remembering  your  invariable  kindness, 
to  come  to  you;  I  learned  your  address  in  Mos- 
cow.    Believe  me,"  she  continued,  softly  rising 
from  the  floor,  and  seating  herself  on  the  very 
edge  of  an  arm-chair: — "  I  have  often  meditated 
death,  and  I  would  have  summoned  up  sufficient 
courage  to  take  my  life — akh,  life  is  now  an  in- 
tolerable burden  to  me!— but  the  thought  of  my 

222 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

daughter,  of  my  Adotchka,  held  me  back;  she 
is  here,  she  is  asleep  in  the  adjoining  room,  poor 
child!  She  is  weary, — you  shall  see  her:  she,  at 
least,  is  not  guilty  toward  you, — and  I  am  so  un- 
happy, so  unhappy!  " — exclaimed  Mme.  Lavret- 
zky,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Lavretzky  came  to  himself,  at  last;  he  sep- 
arated himself  from  the  wall,  and  moved  toward 
the  door. 

"You  are  going  away?" — said  his  wife,  in 
despair: — "oh,  this  is  cruel! — Without  saying 
one  word  to  me,  without  even  one  reproach.  .  .  . 
This  scorn  is  killing  me,  this  is  terrible! " 

Lavretzky  stopped  short. 

"  What  is  it  that  you  wish  to  hear  from  me?  " 
— he  uttered,  in  a  toneless  voice. 

"  Nothing,  nothing," — she  caught  him  up  with 
vivacity:—"  I  know  that  I  have  no  right  to  de- 
mand anything ; — I  am  not  a  fool,  believe  me ; — 
I  do  not  hope,  I  do  not  dare  to  hope  for  your 
forgiveness ; — I  only  venture  to  entreat  you,  that 
you  will  give  me  directions  what  I  am  to  do, 
where  I  am  to  live  ? — I  .will  fulfil  your  command, 
whatever  it  may  be,  like  a  slave." 

"  I  have  no  commands  to  give  you," — returned 
Lavretzky,  in  the  same  voice : — "  you  know,  that 
everything  is  at  an  end  between  us  .  .  .  and 
now  more  than  ever. — You  may  live  where  you 
see  fit; — and  if  your  allowance  is  insufficient .  .  ." 

"  Akh,  do  not  utter  such  dreadful  words," — 

223 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Varvara  Pavlovna  interrupted  him: — "  spare  me, 
if    only  ....  if    only    for    the    sake    of    that 

angel "     And,  as  she  said  these  words, 

Varvara  Pavlovna  flew  headlong  into  the  next 
room,  and  immediately  returned  with  a  tiny,  very 
elegantly  dressed  little  girl  in  her  arms.  Heavy, 
ruddy-gold  curls  fell  over  her  pretty,  rosy  little 
face,  over  her  large,  black,  sleepy  eyes;  she 
smiled,  and  blinked  at  the  light,  and  clung  with 
her  chubby  hand  to  her  mother's  neck. 

"Ada,  vols,  c'est  ton  pere," — said  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna, pushing  the  curls  aside  from  her  eyes,  and 
giving  her  a  hearty  kiss : — "  prie  le  avec  moi." 

"  C'est  fa,  papal " — lisped  the  little  girl, 
brokenly. 

"Oui,  mon  enfant,  nest  ce  pas,  que  tu  Vaimes?  " 

But  this  was  too  much  for  Lavretzky. 

"  In  what  melodrama  is  it  that  there  is  pre- 
cisely such  a  scene? " — he  muttered,  and  left  the 
room. 

Varvara  Pavlovna  stood  for  a  while  rooted  to 
the  spot,  slightly  shrugged  her  shoulders,  carried 
the  little  girl  into  the  other  room,  undressed  her, 
and  put  her  to  bed.  Then  she  got  a  book,  sat 
down  near  the  lamp,  waited  for  about  an  hour, 
and,  at  last,  lay  down  on  the  bed  herself. 

"Eh  bien,  madame? " — inquired  her  maid,  a 
Frenchwoman,  whom  she  had  brought  from  Paris, 
as  she  removed  her  corsets. 

"  Eh  bien,  Justine," — she  replied ; — "  he  has 

224 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

aged  greatly,  but  it  strikes  me  that  he  is  as  good- 
natured  as  ever. — Give  me  my  gloves  for  the 
night,  prepare  my  high-necked  grey  gown  for  to- 
morrow; and  do  not  forget  the  mutton  chops  for 
Ada.  .  .  .  Really,  it  will  be  difficult  to  obtain 
them  here;  but  we  must  make  the  effort." 

"A  la  guerre,  comme  a  la  guerre" — responded 
Justine,  and  put  out  the  light. 


225 


XXXVII 

For  more  than  two  hours  Lavretzky  roamed 
about  the  streets  of  the  town.  The  night  which  he 
had  spent  in  the  suburbs  of  Paris  recurred  to  his 
mind.  His  heart  swelled  to  bursting  within  him, 
and  in  his  head,  which  was  empty,  and,  as  it  were, 
stunned,  the  same  set  of  thoughts  kept  swirling, 
— dark,  wrathful,  evil  thoughts.  "  She  is  alive, 
she  is  here,"  he  whispered,  with  constantly  aug- 
menting amazement.  He  felt  that  he  had  lost 
Liza.  Bile  choked  him ;  this  blow  had  struck  him 
too  suddenly.  How  could  he  so  lightly  have  be- 
lieved the  absurd  gossip  of  a  feuilleton,  a  scrap 
of  paper?  "  Well,  and  if  I  had  not  believed  it, 
what  difference  would  that  have  made?  I  should 
not  have  known  that  Liza  loves  me;  she  herself 
would  not  have  known  it."  He  could  not  banish 
from  himself  the  form,  the  voice,  the  glances  of 
his  wife  ....  and  he  cursed  himself,  cursed  every- 
thing in  the  world. 

Worn  out,  he  arrived  toward  morning  at 
Lemm's.  For  a  long  time,  he  could  produce  no 
effect  with  his  knocking;  at  last,  the  old  man's 
head,  in  a  nightcap,  made  its  appearance  in  the 

226 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

window,  sour,  wrinkled,  no  longer  bearing  the 
slightest  resemblance  to  that  inspiredly-morose 
head  which,  four  and  twenty  hours  previously, 
had  gazed  on  Lavretzky  from  the  full  height  of 
its  artistic  majesty. 

"What  do  you  want?" — inquired  Lemm: — 
"  I  cannot  play  every  night ;  I  have  taken  a  de- 
coction."— But,  evidently,  Lavretzky's  face  was 
very  strange:  the  old  man  made  a  shield  for  his 
eyes  out  of  his  hands,  stared  at  his  nocturnal 
visitor,  and  admitted  him. 

Lavretzky  entered  the  room,  and  sank  down 
on  a  chair;  the  old  man  halted  in  front  of  him, 
with  the  skirts  of  his  motley-hued,  old  dressing- 
gown  tucked  up,  writhing  and  mumbling  with 
his  lips. 

"  My  wife  has  arrived," — said  Lavretzky, 
raising  his  head,  and  suddenly  breaking  into  an 
involuntary  laugh. 

Lemm's  face  expressed  surprise,  but  he  did  not 
even  smile,  and  only  wrapped  himself  more 
closely  in  his  dressing-gown. 

"  You  see,  you  do  not  know," — went  on  La- 
vretzky:— "  I  imagined  ....  I  read  in  a  news- 
paper, that  she  was  no  longer  alive." 

'  O — o,  you  read  that  a  short  time  ago? " — 
asked  Lemm. 
i  es. 

'  O — o," — repeated  the  old  man,  and  elevated 
his  eyebrows. — "And  she  has  arrived?" 

227 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Yes.  She  is  now  at  my  house ;  but  I  ...  I 
am  an  unhappy  man." 

And  again  he  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"  You  are  an  unhappy  man,"  —  repeated 
Lemm,  slowly. 

"  Christofor  Feodoritch," — began  Lavretzky: 
— "  will  you  undertake  to  deliver  a  note? ' 

"  H'm.     May  I  inquire,  to  whom? ' 

"  To  Liza.  .  .  ." 

"  Ah, — yes,  yes,  I  understand.  Very  well. 
But  when  must  the  note  be  delivered? ' 

"  To-morrow,  as  early  as  possible." 

"  H'm.  I  can  send  Katrina,  my  cook.  No,  I 
will  go  myself." 

"  And  will  you  bring  me  the  answer? ' 

"  Yes,  I  will." 

Lemm  sighed. 

"  Yes,  my  poor  young  friend;  you  really  are 
— an  unhappy  man." 

Lavretzky  wrote  a  couple  of  words  to  Liza: 
he  informed  her  of  his  wife's  arrival,  begged  her 
to  appoint  a  meeting, — and  flung  himself  on  the 
narrow  divan,  face  to  the  wall;  and  the  old  man 
lay  down  on  the  bed,  and  tossed  about  for  a  long 
time,  coughing  and  taking  sips  of  his  decoction. 

Morning  came:  they  both  rose.  With  strange 
eyes  they  gazed  at  each  other.  Lavretzky  wanted 
to  kill  himself  at  that  moment.  The  cook,  Ka- 
trina, brought  them  some  bad  coffee.  The  clock 
struck  eight.    Lemm  put  on  his  hat,  and  saying 

228 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

that  he  had  a  lesson  to  give  at  the  Kalitins'  at 
nine,  but  that  he  would  find  a  decent  pretext,  set 
out.  Lavretzky  again  flung  himself  on  the  little 
couch,  and  again,  from  the  depths  of  his  soul,  a 
sorrowful  laugh  welled  up.  He  thought  of  how 
his  wife  had  driven  him  out  of  his  house ;  he  pic- 
tured to  himself  Liza's  position,  closed  his  eyes, 
and  threw  his  hands  behind  his  head.  At  last 
Lemm  returned,  and  brought  him  a  scrap  of  pa- 
per, on  which  Liza  had  scrawled  with  pencil  the 
following  words:  "  We  cannot  see  each  other  to- 
day; perhaps — to-morrow  evening.  Farewell." 
Lavretzky  quietly  and  abstractedly  thanked 
Lemm,  and  went  to  his  own  house. 

He  found  his  wife  at  breakfast ;  Ada,  all  curls, 
in  a  white  frock  with  blue  ribbons,  was  eating  a 
mutton  chop.  Varvara  Pavlovna  immediately 
rose,  as  soon  as  Lavretzky  entered  the  room,  and 
approached  him,  with  humility  depicted  on  her 
face.  He  requested  her  to  follow  him  to  his 
study,  locked  the  door  behind  him,  and  began  to 
stride  to  and  fro;  she  sat  down,  laid  one  hand 
modestly  on  the  other,  and  began  to  watch  him 
with  her  still  beautiful,  although  slightly  painted 
eyes. 

For  a  long  time  Lavretzky  did  not  speak:  he 
felt  that  he  could  not  control  himself;  he  per- 
ceived clearly,  that  Varvara  Pavlovna  was  not  in 
the  least  afraid  of  him,  but  was  assuming  the  air 
of  being  on  the  very  verge  of  falling  into  a  swoon. 

229 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Listen,  madam," — he  began,  at  last,  breath- 
ing heavily  at  times,  grinding  his  teeth : — "  there 
is  no  necessity  for  our  dissembling  with  each 
other;  I  do  not  believe  in  your  repentance;  and 
even  if  it  were  genuine,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 
become  reconciled  to  you,  to  live  with  you  again." 

Varvara  Pavlovna  compressed  her  lips  and 
narrowed  her  eyes.  "  This  is  disgust," — she 
thought: — "of  course!  I  am  no  longer  even  a 
woman  to  him." 

"  It  is  impossible," — repeated  Lavretzky,  and 
buttoned  up  his  coat  to  the  throat. — "  I  do  not 
know  why  you  have  taken  it  into  your  head  to 
come  hither:  probably,  you  have  no  money 
left." 

"  Alas !  you  are  insulting  me," — whispered 
Varvara  Pavlovna. 

"  However  that  may  be, — you  are,  unhappily, 
my  wife,  nevertheless.  I  cannot  turn  you  out 
....  and  this  is  what  I  have  to  propose  to  you. 
You  may  set  out,  this  very  day,  if  you  like,  for 
Lavrfki,  and  live  there ;  the  house  is  good,  as  you 
know;  you  will  receive  all  that  is  necessary,  in 
addition  to  your  allowance.  .  .  .  Do  you  agree? ' 

Varvara  Pavlovna  raised  her  embroidered 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  I  have  already  told  you," — she  said,  her  lips 
twitching  nervously: — "  that  I  shall  agree  to  any- 
thing whatever  you  may  see  fit  to  do  with  me :  on 
this  occasion,  nothing  is  left  for  me  to  do,  except 

230 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

to  ask  you :  will  you  permit  me,  at  least,  to  thank 
you  for  your  magnanimity?  " 

"  No  gratitude,  I  beg  of  you;  it  is  better  so," — 
hastily  returned  Lavretzky. — "  Accordingly," — 
he  went  on,  approaching  the  door: — "  I  may 
count  upon  .  .  .  ." 

"  To-morrow  I  shall  be  at  Lavriki," — said  Var- 
vara Pavlovna,  respectfully  rising  from  her  seat. 
— "  But,  Feodor  Ivanitch  "  (she  no  longer  called 
him  Theodore)  .... 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

"  I  know  that  I  have,  as  yet,  in  no  way  earned 
my  forgiveness;  may  I  hope,  at  least,  in 
time  .  .  .  ." 

"  Ekh,  Varvara  Pavlovna," — Lavretzky  in- 
terrupted her: — "  you  are  a  clever  woman,  and  as 
I  am  not  a  fool,  I  know  that  that  is  quite  un- 
necessary for  you.  And  I  forgave  you  long  ago ; 
but  there  was  always  a  gulf  between  us." 

"  I  shall  know  how  to  submit," — replied  Var- 
vara Pavlovna,  and  bowed  her  head.  "  I  have 
not  forgotten  my  fault;  I  should  not  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  that  you  were  even  delighted 
at  the  news  of  my  death," — she  added  gently, 
pointing  slightly  with  her  hand  at  the  copy  of  the 
newspaper  which  lay  on  the  table,  forgotten  by 
Lavretzky. 

Feodor  Ivanitch  shuddered:  the  feuilleton  was 
marked  with  a  pencil.  Varvara  Pavlovna  gazed 
at  him  with  still  greater  humility.    She  was  very 

231 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

pretty  at  that  moment.  Her  grey  Paris  gown 
gracefully  clothed  her  willowy  form,  which  was 
almost  that  of  a  girl  of  seventeen;  her  slender, 
delicate  neck  encircled  with  a  white  collar,  her 
bosom  which  rose  and  fell  evenly,  her  arms  de- 
void of  bracelets  and  rings, — her  whole  figure, 
from  her  shining  hair  to  the  tip  of  her  barely 

revealed  little  boot,  was  so  elegant 

Lavretzky  swept  an  angry  glance  over  her, 
came  near  exclaiming:  "  Brava!  "  came  near  smit- 
ing her  in  the  temple  with  his  fist — and  left 
the  room.  An  hour  later,  he  had  already  set  out 
for  Vasilievskoe,  and  two  hours  later,  Varvara 
Pavlovna  gave  orders  that  the  best  carriage  in 
town  should  be  engaged,  donned  a  simple  straw 
hat  with  a  black  veil,  and  a  modest  mantle,  en- 
trusted Ada  to  Justine,  and  set  out  for  the  Kali- 
tins:  from  the  inquiries  instituted  by  her  servant 
she  had  learned  that  her  husband  was  in  the  habit 
of  going  to  them  every  day. 


232 


XXXVIII 

The  day  of  the  arrival  of  Lavretzky's  wife  in 
town  of  O  *  *  *,  a  cheerless  day  for  him,  was 
also  a  painful  day  for  Liza.  She  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  going  down-stairs  and  bidding  her 
mother  "  good  morning,"  before  the  trampling  of 
a  horse's  hoofs  resounded  under  the  window,  and 
with  secret  terror  she  beheld  Panshin  riding  into 
the  yard:  "  He  has  presented  himself  thus  early 
for  a  definitive  explanation," — she  thought — and 
she  was  not  mistaken;  after  spending  a  while  in 
the  drawing-room,  he  suggested  that  she  should 
go  with  him  into  the  garden,  and  demanded  her 
decision  as  to  his  fate.  Liza  summoned  up  her 
courage,  and  informed  him  that  she  could  not  be 
his  wife.  He  listened  to  her  to  the  end,  as  he 
stood  with  his  side  toward  her,  and  his  hat  pulled 
down  on  his  brows ;  courteously,  but  in  an  altered 
tone,  he  asked  her:  was  that  her  last  word,  and 
had  he,  in  any  way,  given  her  cause  for  such  a 
change  in  her  ideas?  then  he  pressed  his  hand  to 
his  eyes,  sighed  briefly  and  abruptly,  and  removed 
his  hand  from  his  face. 

"  I  have  not  wished  to  follow  the  beaten  path," 
— he  said,  in  a  dull  voice, — "  I  have  wished  to  find 

233 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

my  companion  after  the  inclination  of  the  heart ; 
but,  evidently,  that  was  not  destined  to  be.  Fare- 
well, dream!" — He  bowed  profoundly  to  Liza, 
and  returned  to  the  house. 

She  hoped  that  he  would  immediately  take  his 
departure ;  but  he  went  into  Marya  Dmitrievna's 
boudoir,  and  sat  with  her  for  about  an  hour.  As 
he  went  awav,  he  said  to  Liza :  "  Votre  mere  vous 
appelle;  adieu  a  jamais  .  .  ."  mounted  his  horse, 
and  set  off  from  the  very  porch  at  full  gallop. 
Liza  went  in  to  Marya  Dmitrievna,  and  found 
her  in  tears :  Panshin  had  communicated  to  her  his 
misfortune. 

"Why  hast  thou  killed  me?  Why  hast  thou 
killed  me?  " — in  this  wise  did  the  mortified  widow 
begin  her  complaints. — "  Whom  else  didst  thou 
want?  What!  is  not  he  a  suitable  husband  for 
thee?  A  Junior  Gentleman  of  the  Emperor's 
Bedchamber!  not  interessant!  He  might  marry 
any  Maid  of  Honour  he  chose  in  Petersburg. 
And  I — I  had  been  hoping  so!  And  hast  thou 
changed  long  toward  him?  What  has  sent  this 
cloud  drifting  hither — it  did  not  come  of  itself! 
Can  it  be  that  ninny?  A  pretty  counsellor  thou 
hast  found ! 

"  And  he,  my  dear  one," — pursued  Marya 
Dmitrievna: — "how  respectful,  how  attentive, 
even  in  his  own  grief!  He  has  promised  not  to 
abandon  me.  Akh,  I  shall  not  survive  this !  Akh, 
I  have  got  a  deadly  headache.     Send  Palasha  to 

234 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

me.  Thou  wilt  be  the  death  of  me,  if  thou  dost 
not  change  thy  mind, — dost  thou  hear? '  And 
calling  her  an  ingrate  a  couple  of  times,  Marya 
Dmitrievna  sent  Liza  away. 

She  went  to  her  own  room.  But  before  she  had 
time  to  recover  her  breath  from  her  explanation 
with  Panshin  and  her  mother,  another  thunder- 
storm broke  over  her,  and  this  time  from  a  quar- 
ter whence  she  had  least  expected  it.  Marfa 
Timofeevna  entered  her  room,  and  immediately 
slammed  the  door  behind  her.  The  old  woman's 
face  was  pale,  her  cap  was  awry,  her  eyes  were 
flashing,  her  hands  and  lips  were  trembling. 
Liza  was  amazed:  never  before  had  she  seen  her 
sensible  and  reasonable  aunt  in  such  a  state. 

!  Very  fine,  madam," — began  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna, in  a  tremulous  and  broken  whisper:  "  very 
fine  indeed !  From  whom  hast  thou  learned  this, 
my  mother? .  .  .  Give  me  water;  I  cannot  speak." 

'  Calm  yourself,  aunty;  what  is  the  matter  with 
you?  " — said  Liza,  giving  her  a  glass  of  water. — 
'  Wh5>-,  you  yourself  did  not  favour  Mr.  Pan- 
shin." 

Marfa  Timofeevna  set  down  the  glass. 

1 1  cannot  drink :  I  shall  knock  out  my  last  re- 
maining teeth.  What  dost  thou  mean  by  Pan- 
shin?  What  has  Panshin  to  do  with  it?  Do  thou 
tell  me,  rather,  who  taught  thee  to  appoint  rendez- 
vous by  night — hey?  my  mother?  " 

Liza  turned  pale. 

235 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Please  do  not  think  of  excusing  thyself," — 
continued  Marfa  Timofeevna. — "  Schurotchka 
herself  saw  all,  and  told  me.  I  have  forbidden 
her  to  chatter,  but  she  does  not  lie." 

"  I  have  made  no  excuses,  aunty," — said  Liza, 
in  a  barely  audible  voice. 

"Ah,  ah!  Now,  see  here,  my  mother;  didst 
thou  appoint  a  meeting  with  him,  with  that  old 
sinner,  that  quiet  man?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  how  did  it  come  about?  " 

"  I  went  down-stairs,  to  the  drawing-room,  for 
a  book;  he  was  in  the  garden,  and  called  me." 

"  And  thou  wentest?  Very  fine.  And  thou 
lovest  him,  dost  thou  not?  " 

"  I  do," — replied  Liza,  in  a  tranquil  voice. 

"Gracious  heavens!  she  loves  him!" — Marfa 
Timofeevna  tore  off  her  cap. — "  She  loves  a  mar- 
ried man!    Hey?  she  loves!  " 

"  He  told  me," — began  Liza  .... 

"  What  did  he  tell  thee,  the  darling,  wha-at 
was  it? " 

"  He  told  me  that  his  wife  was  dead." 

Marfa  Timofeevna  crossed  herself. — "  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  be  hers," — she  whispered: — 
"  she  was  a  frivolous  woman — God  forgive  her. 
So  that 's  how  it  is :  then  he  's  a  widower.  Yes,  I 
see  that  he  is  equal  to  anything.  He  killed  off  his 
first  wife,  and  now  he  's  after  another.  Thou  art 
a  sly  one,  art  thou  not?  Only,  this  is  what  I  have 
to  say  to  thee,  niece:  in  my  time,  when  I  was 

236 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

young,  girls  were  severely  punished  for  such 
capers.  Thou  must  not  be  angry  with  me,  my 
mother ;  only  fools  get  angry  at  the  truth.  I  have 
given  orders  that  he  is  not  to  be  admitted  to-day. 
I  am  fond  of  him,  but  I  shall  never  forgive  him 
for  this.  A  widower,  forsooth!  Give  me  some 
water.  .  .  But  thou  art  my  brave  girl,  for  send- 
ing Panshin  off  with  a  long  face ;  only,  do  not  sit 
out  nights  with  that  goat's  breed, — with  men, — 
do  not  grieve  me,  an  old  woman!  For  I  am  not 
always  amiable — I  know  how  to  bite,  also !  .  .  .  . 
A  widower!  " 

Marfa  Timofeevna  departed,  but  Liza  sat 
down  in  the  corner  and  began  to  cry.  She  felt 
bitter  in  soul ;  she  had  not  deserved  such  humilia- 
tion. Her  love  had  not  announced  its  presence 
by  cheerfulness ;  this  was  the  second  time  she  had 
wept  since  the  night  before.  That  new,  unex- 
pected feeling  had  barely  come  to  life  in  her 
heart  when  she  had  had  to  pay  so  heavily  for  it, 
when  strange  hands  had  roughly  touched  her 
private  secret!  She  felt  ashamed,  and  pained, 
and  bitter :  but  there  was  neither  doubt  nor  terror 
in  her, — and  Lavretzky  became  all  the  dearer  to 
her.  She  had  hesitated  as  long  as  she  did  not 
understand  herself;  but  after  that  meeting — she 
could  hesitate  no  longer ;  she  knew  that  she  loved, 
— and  had  fallen  in  love  honourably,  not  jest- 
ingly, she  had  become  strongly  attached,  for  her 
whole  life;  she  felt  that  force  could  not  break 
that  bond. 

237 


XXXIX 

Marya  Dmitrievna  was  greatly  perturbed 
when  the  arrival  of  Varvara  Pavlovna  was  an- 
nounced to  her;  she  did  not  even  know  whether 
to  receive  her;  she  was  afraid  of  offending  Feo- 
dor  Ivanitch.  At  last,  curiosity  carried  the  day. 
"  What  of  it?  " — she  said  to  herself, — "  why,  she 
is  a  relative  also," — and  seating  herself  in  her 
arm-chair,  she  said  to  the  lackey:  "Ask  her  in! ' 
Several  minutes  elapsed;  the  door  opened,  Var- 
vara Pavlovna  approached  Marya  Dmitrievna 
swiftly,  with  barely  audible  footsteps,  and,  with- 
out giving  her  a  chance  to  rise  from  her  chair, 
almost  went  down  on  her  knees  before  her. 

"  Thank  you,  aunty," — she  began  in  a  touched 
and  gentle  voice,  in  Russian:  "thank  you!  I 
had  not  hoped  for  such  condescension  on  your 
part;  you  are  as  kind  as  an  angel." 

As  she  uttered  these  words,  Varvara  Pavlovna 
unexpectedly  took  possession  of  one  of  Marya 
Dmftrievna's  hands,  and  pressing  it  lightly  in  her 
pale-lilac  gloves,  obsequiously  raised  it  to  her  full, 
rosy  lips.  Marya  Dmitrievna  completely  lost 
her  head,  on  beholding  such  a  beautiful,  charm- 
ingly-dressed woman,  almost  on  her  knees  at  her 

238 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

feet;  she  did  not  know  what  to  do:  she  did  not 
wish  to  withdraw  her  hand,  she  wished  to  give 
her  a  seat,  and  to  say  something  amiable  to  her; 
she  ended  by  rising,  and  kissing  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna  on  her  smooth,  fragrant  brow.  Varvara 
Pavlovna  was  perfectly  dumfounded  by  this  kiss. 

"  Good  morning, — bon  jour" — said  Marya 
Dmitrievna: — "  of  course,  I  had  no  idea,  .... 
however,  of  course,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you. 
You  understand,  my  dear, — it  is  not  for  me  to  sit 
in  judgment  between  wife  and  husband." 

"  My  husband  is  wholly  in  the  right," — Var- 
vara Pavlovna  interrupted  her: — "  I  alone  am  to 
blame." 

"  That  is  a  very  praiseworthy  sentiment," — 
returned  Marya  Dmitrievna : — "  very.  Have 
you  been  here  long?  Have  you  seen  him?  But 
sit  down,  pray." 

"  I  arrived  yesterday," — replied  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna, meekly  seating  herself  on  a  chair;  "  I  have 
seen  Feodor  Ivanitch,  I  have  talked  with  him." 

"  Ah!  Well,  and  how  does  he  take  it?  " 

"  I  was  afraid  that  my  sudden  arrival  would 
arouse  his  wrath," — went  on  Varvara  Pavlovna: 
— "  but  he  did  not  deprive  me  of  his  presence." 

"  That  is  to  say,  he  did  not  ....  Yes,  yes,  I 
understand," — ejaculated  Marya  Dmitrievna. — 
"  He  is  only  rather  rough  in  appearance,  but  his 
heart  is  soft." 

"  Feodor  Ivanitch  has  not  forgiven  me ;  he 

239 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

would  not  listen  to  me.  .  .  .  But  he  was  so  kind 
as  to  appoint  Lavrfki  for  my  place  of  residence." 

"  Ah !    A  very  fine  estate !  " 

"I  set  out  thither  to-morrow,  in  compliance 
with  his  will ;  but  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  call 
on  you  first." 

"  I  am  very,  very  grateful  to  you,  my  dear. 
One  must  never  forget  one's  relatives.  And,  do 
you  know,  I  am  astonished  that  you  speak  Rus- 
sian so  well.    C'est  etonnant! " 

Varvara  Pavlovna  sighed. 

"  I  have  spent  too  much  time  abroad,  Marya 
Dmitrievna,  I  know  that;  but  my  heart  has  al- 
ways been  Russian,  and  I  have  not  forgotten  my 
native  land." 

'  Exactly  so,  exactly  so ;  that  is  the  best  of  all. 
Feodor  Ivanitch,  however,  did  not  in  the  least  ex- 
pect you.  .  .  .  Yes;  believe  my  experience;  la 
patrie  avant  tout.  Akh,  please  show  me, — what  a 
charming  mantle  that  is  you  have  on ! ' 

"Do  you  like  it?"  —  Varvara  Pavlovna 
promptly  dropped  it  from  her  shoulders. — "  It 
is  a  very  simple  thing,  from  Madame  Baudran." 

"  That  is  instantly  perceptible.  From  Madame 
Baudran.  .  .  .  How  charming,  and  what  taste! 
I  am  convinced  that  you  have  brought  with  you 
a  mass  of  the  most  entrancing  things.  I  should 
like  to  look  them  over." 

"  My  entire  toilette  is  at  your  service,  my  dear- 
est aunt.     If  you  will  permit,  I  can  give  your 

240 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

maid  some  points.     I  have  a  maid-servant  from 
Paris, — a  wonderful  seamstress." 

;  You  are  very  kind,  my  dear.    But,  really,  I 
am  ashamed." 

"Ashamed!  .  .  ."  repeated  Varvara  Pavlovna, 
reproachfully. — "  If  you  wish  to  make  me  happy, 
— command  me,  as  though  I  belonged  to  you." 

Marya  Dmitrievna  thawed. 

"Vous  etes  charmante"  she  said. — "  But  why 
do  not  you  take  off  your  bonnet,  your  gloves?  " 

'  What?    You  permit?  " — asked  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna, clasping  her  hands,  as  though  with  emotion. 

"  Of  course ;  for  you  will  dine  with  us,  I  hope. 
I  ....  I  will  introduce  you  to  my  daughter." — 
Marya  Dmitrievna  became  slightly  confused. 
"  Well!  here  goes!  " — she  said  to  herself. — "  She 
is  not  quite  well  to-day." 

"Oh,  ma  tante,  how  kind  you  are!" — ex- 
claimed Varvara  Pavlovna,  and  raised  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes. 

A  page  announced  the  arrival  of  Gedeonovsky. 
The  old  chatterbox  entered,  made  his  bows,  and 
smiled.  Marya  Dmitrievna  presented  him  to  her 
visitor.  He  came  near  being  discomfited  at  first ; 
but  Varvara  Pavlovna  treated  him  with  such 
coquettish  respect,  that  his  ears  began  to  burn, 
and  fibs,  scandals,  amiable  remarks  trickled  out 
of  his  mouth  like  honey.  Varvara  Pavlovna  lis- 
tened to  him  with  a  repressed  smile,  and  became 
rather  talkative  herself.      She  modestly  talked 

241 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

about  Paris,  about  her  travels,  about  Baden; 
twice  she  made  Marya  Dmitrievna  laugh,  and  on 
each  occasion  she  heaved  another  little  sigh,  as 
though  she  were  mentally  reproaching  herself  for 
her  ill-timed  mirth ;  she  asked  permission  to  bring 
Ada;  removing  her  gloves,  she  showed,  with  her 
smooth  hands  washed  with  soap  a  la  guimauve, 
how  and  where  flounces,  ruches,  lace,  and  knots 
of  ribbon  were  worn;  she  promised  to  bring  a 
phial  of  the  new  English  perfume,  Victoria's  Es- 
sence, and  rejoiced  like  a  child  when  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna consented  to  accept  it  as  a  gift;  she  wept 
at  the  remembrance  of  the  feeling  she  had  ex- 
perienced when,  for  the  first  time,  she  had  heard 
the  Russian  bells ; — "  so  profoundly  did  they 
stagger  my  very  heart," — she  said. 

At  that  moment,  Liza  entered. 

From  the  morning,  from  the  very  moment 
when,  chilled  with  terror,  she  had  perused  La- 
vretzky's  note,  Liza  had  been  preparing  herself 
to  meet  his  wife ;  she  had  a  presentiment  that  she 
should  see  her,  by  way  of  punishment  to  her  own 
criminal  hopes,  as  she  called  them.  She  had  made 
up  her  mind  not  to  shun  her.  The  sudden  cri- 
sis in  her  fate  had  shaken  her  to  the  very  foun- 
dations; in  the  course  of  about  two  hours  her 
face  had  grown  haggard;  but  she  did  not  shed 
a  tear.  "  It  serves  me  right!  " — she  said  to  her- 
self, with  difficulty  and  agitation  suppressing  in 
her  soul  certain  bitter,  spiteful  impulses,  which 

242 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

alarmed  even  herself: — "  Come,  I  must  go 
down!" — she  thought,  as  soon  as  she  heard  of 
Mme.  Lavretzky's  arrival,  and  she  went.  .  .  . 
For  a  long  time  she  stood  outside  the  door  of  the 
drawing-room,  before  she  could  bring  herself  to 
open  it ;  with  the  thought :  "  I  am  to  blame  toward 
her," — she  crossed  the  threshold,  and  forced  her- 
self to  look  at  her,  forced  herself  to  smile.  Var- 
vara Pavlovna  advanced  to  meet  her  as  soon  as 
she  saw  her,  and  made  a  slight  but  nevertheless 
respectful  inclination  before  her. — "  Allow  me 
to  introduce  myself," — she  began,  in  an  insin- 
uating voice: — "  your  inaman  is  so  indulgent  to- 
ward me,  that  I  hope  you  will  also  be kind." 

The  expression  on  Varvara  Pavlovna's  face,  as 
she  uttered  this  last  word,  her  sly  smile,  her  cold 
and  at  the  same  time  soft  glance,  the  movement 
of  her  arms  and  shoulders,  her  very  gown,  her 
whole  being,  aroused  in  Liza  such  a  feeling  of 
repulsion,  that  she  could  make  her  no  answer,  and 
with  an  effort  she  offered  her  hand.  "  This 
young  lady  despises  me," — thought  Varvara 
Pavlovna,  as  she  warmly  pressed  Liza's  cold  fin- 
gers, and,  turning  to  Marya  Dmitrievna,  she  said 
in  an  undertone :  "Mais  elle  est  delicieuse!  *  Liza 
flushed  faintly,  insult  was  audible  to  her  in  this 
exclamation;  but  she  made  up  her  mind  not  to 
trust  her  impressions,  and  seated  herself  by  the 
window,  at  her  embroidery-frame.  Even  there, 
Varvara  Pavlovna  did  not  leave  her  in  peace :  she 

243 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

went  up  to  her,  began  to  praise  her  taste,  her 
art.  .  .  .  Liza's  heart  beat  violently  and  pain- 
fully, she  could  hardly  control  herself,  she  could 
hardly  sit  still  on  her  chair.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  Varvara  Pavlovna  knew  everything,  and, 
secretly  triumphing,  was  jeering  at  her.  For- 
tunately for  her,  Gedeonovsky  entered  into  con- 
versation with  Varvara  Pavlovna,  and  distracted 
her  attention.  Liza  bent  over  her  embroidery- 
frame,  and  stealthily  watched  her.  "He  loved 
that  woman," — she  said  to  herself.  But  she  im- 
mediately banished  from  her  head  the  thought  of 
Lavretzky:  she  was  afraid  of  losing  control  over 
herself,  she  felt  that  her  head  was  softly  whirling. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  began  to  talk  about  music. 

"  I  have  heard,  my  dear," — she  began: — "  that 
you  are  a  wonderful  performer." 

'  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  played," — re- 
plied Varvara  Pavlovna,  as  she  seated  herself,  in 
a  leisurely  manner,  at  the  piano,  and  ran  her  fin- 
gers in  a  dashing  way  over  the  keys. — "  Would 
you  like  to  have  me  play? " 

"  Pray  do." 

Varvara  Pavlovna  played  a  brilliant  and  diffi- 
cult etude  of  Herz  in  a  masterly  style.  She  had 
a  great  deal  of  strength  and  execution. 

"A  sylph!" — exclaimed  Gedeonovsky. 

"Remarkable!" — assented  Marya  Dmitri- 
evna.— "  Well,  Varvara  Pavlovna,  I  must  con- 
fess,"— she  said,  calling  her,  for  the  first  time, 

244 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

by  her  name : — "  you  have  amazed  me ;  you  might 
even  give  concerts.  We  have  an  old  musician 
here,  a  German,  an  eccentric  fellow,  very  learned ; 
he  gives  Liza  lessons;  he  will  simply  go  out  of 
his  mind  over  you." 

"  Lizaveta  Mikhailovna  is  also  a  musician?  " — 
inquired  Varvara  Pavlovna,  turning  her  head 
slightly  in  her  direction. 

:  Yes,  she  plays  quite  well,  and  loves  music ; 
but  what  does  that  signify,  in  comparison  with 
you?  But  there  is  a  young  man  here;  you  ought 
to  make  his  acquaintance.  He  is — an  artist  in 
soul,  and  composes  very  prettily.  He  is  the  only 
one  who  can  fully  appreciate  you." 

"  A  young  man?  " — said  Varvara  Pavlovna. — 
"  Who  is  he?     Some  poor  fellow?  " 

"  Good  gracious, — he  's  our  chief  cavalier,  and 
not  among  us  only — et  a  Petersbourg.  A  Junior 
Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber,  received  in  the 
best  society.  You  certainly  must  have  heard  of 
him, — Panshin,  Vladimir  Nikolaitch.  He  is  here 
on  a  government  commission  ....  a  future  Min- 
ister, upon  my  word !  " 

"And  an  artist?" 

"  An  artist  in  soul,  and  such  a  charming  fel- 
low. You  shall  see  him.  He  has  been  at  my 
house  very  frequently  of  late ;  I  have  invited  him 
for  this  evening;  I  hope  that  he  will  come," — 
added  Marya  Dmitrievna,  with  a  gentle  sigh  and 
a  sidelong  bitter  smile. 

245 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Liza  understood  the  significance  of  that  smile; 
but  she  cared  nothing  for  it. 

"  And  is  he  young?  " — repeated  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna, lightly  modulating  from  one  key  to  an- 
other. 

"  He  is  eight  and  twenty — and  of  the  most 
happy  personal  appearance.  Un  jeune  homme 
accompli ,  upon  my  word." 

"  A  model  young  man,  one  may  say," — re- 
marked Gedeonovsky. 

Varvara  Pavlovna  suddenly  began  to  play  a 
noisy  Strauss  waltz,  which  started  with  such  a 
mighty  and  rapid  trill  as  made  even  Gedeonov- 
sky start;  in  the  very  middle  of  the  waltz,  she 
abruptly  changed  into  a  mournful  motif,  and 
wound  up  with  the  aria  from  "  Lucia  " :  '  Fra 
poco."  .  .  .  She  had  reflected  that  merry  music 
was  not  compatible  with  her  situation.  The  aria 
from  "  Lucia,"  with  emphasis  on  the  sentimental 
notes,  greatly  affected  Marya  Dmitrievna. 

"What  soul!" — she  said,  in  a  low  tone,  to 
Gedeonovsky. 

"A  sylph!" — repeated  Gedeonovsky,  and 
rolled  his  eyes  heavenward. 

Dinner-time  arrived.  Marfa  Timofeevna 
came  down-stairs  when  the  soup  was  already 
standing  on  the  table.  She  treated  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna very  coolly,  replying  with  half-words  to  her 
amiabilities,  and  not  looking  at  her.  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna herself   speedily   comprehended   that   she 

246 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

could  do  nothing  with  the  old  woman,  and  ceased 
to  address  her;  on  the  other  hand,  Mary  a  Dmi- 
trievna  became  more  affectionate  than  ever  with 
her  guest:  her  aunt's  discourtesy  enraged  her. 
However,  Varvara  Pavlovna  was  not  the  only 
person  at  whom  Marfa  Timofeevna  refused  to 
look:  she  never  cast  a  glance  at  Liza,  either,  al- 
though her  eyes  fairly  flashed.  She  sat  like  a 
stone  image,  all  sallow,  pale,  with  tightly  com- 
pressed lips — and  ate  nothing.  Liza  seemed  to 
be  composed;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  all  had 
become  more  tranquil  in  her  soul;  a  strange  in- 
sensibility, the  insensibility  of  the  man  condemned 
to  death,  had  come  upon  her.  At  dinner  Varvara 
Pavlovna  talked  little:  she  seemed  to  have  be- 
come timid  once  more,  and  spread  over  her  face 
an  expression  of  modest  melancholy.  Gedeo- 
novsky  alone  enlivened  the  conversation  with  his 
tales,  although  he  kept  casting  cowardly  glances 
at  Marfa  Timofeevna,  and  a  cough  and  tickling 
in  the  throat  seized  upon  him  every  time  that  he 
undertook  to  lie  in  her  presence, — but  she  did  not 
hinder  him,  she  did  not  interrupt  him.  After 
dinner  it  appeared  that  Varvara  Pavlovna  was 
extremely  fond  of  preference;  this  pleased  Ma- 
rya  Dmitrievna  to  such  a  degree,  that  she  even 
became  greatly  affected,  and  thought  to  herself: 
— "  But  what  a  fool  Feodor  Ivanitch  must  be :  he 
was  not  able  to  appreciate  such  a  woman! ' 

She   sat  down  to   play  cards  with  her  and 

247 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Gedeonovskv,  while  Marfa  Timofeevna  led  Liza 
off  to  her  own  rooms  up-stairs,  saying  that  she 
looked  ill,  that  her  head  must  be  aching. 

"  Yes,  she  has  a  frightful  headache," — said 
Marya  Dmftrievna,  turning  to  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna,  and  rolling  up  her  eyes. — "  I  myself  have 

such  sick-headaches "     Liza  entered  her 

aunt's  room  and  dropped  on  a  chair,  exhausted. 
Marfa  Timofeevna  gazed  at  her  for  a  long  time, 
in  silence,  knelt  down  softly  in  front  of  her — and 
began,  in  the  same  speechless  manner,  to  kiss 
her  hands,  in  turn.  Liza  leaned  forward,  blushed, 
and  fell  to  weeping,  but  did  not  raise  Marfa 
Timofeevna,  did  not  withdraw  her  hands:  she 
felt  that  she  had  not  the  right  to  withdraw  them, 
had  not  the  right  to  prevent  the  old  woman  show- 
ing her  contrition,  her  sympathy,  asking  her  par- 
don for  what  had  taken  place  on  the  day  before ; 
and  Marfa  Timofeevna  could  not  have  done  with 
kissing  those  poor,  pale,  helpless  hands — and  si- 
lent tears  streamed  from  her  eyes  and  from  Liza's 
eyes ;  and  the  cat  Matros  purred  in  the  wide  arm- 
chair beside  the  ball  of  yarn  and  the  stocking, 
the  elongated  flame  of  the  shrine-lamp  quivered 
gently  and  flickered  in  front  of  the  holy  picture, 
— in  the  adjoining  room,  behind  the  door,  stood 
Nastasya  Karpovna,  and  also  stealthily  wiped 
her  eyes,  with  a  checked  handkerchief  rolled  up 
into  a  ball. 


248 


XL 

And,  in  the  meantime,  down-stairs  in  the  draw- 
ing-room preference  was  in  progress;  Marya 
Dmitrievna  won,  and  was  in  high  spirits.  A 
footman  entered,  and  announced  the  arrival  of 
Panshin. 

Marya  Dmitrievna  dropped  her  cards,  and 
fidgeted  about  in  her  chair;  Varvara  Pavlovna 
looked  at  her  with  a  half -smile,  then  directed  her 
gaze  to  the  door.  Panshin  made  his  appearance, 
in  a  black  frock-coat,  with  a  tall  English  collar, 
buttoned  up  to  the  throat.  '  It  was  painful  for 
me  to  obey,  but  you  see  I  have  come."  That  was 
what  his  freshly-shaved,  unsmiling  face  ex- 
pressed. 

"  Goodness,  Wol&emar" — exclaimed  Marya 
Dmitrievna: — "  you  always  used  to  enter  without 
being  announced !  " 

Panshin  replied  to  Marya  Dmitrievna  merely 
with  a  look,  bowed  courteously  to  her,  but  did 
not  kiss  her  hand.  She  introduced  him  to  Var- 
vara Pavlovna;  he  retreated  a  pace,  bowed  to 
her  with  equal  courtesy,  but  with  a  shade  of  ele- 
gance and  deference,  and  seated  himself  at  the 
card-table.  The  game  of  preference  soon  came 
to  an  end.    Panshin  inquired  after  Lizaveta  Mi- 

249 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

khailovna,  learned  that  she  did  not  feel  quite  well, 
and  expressed  his  regrets;  then  he  entered  into 
conversation  with  Varvara  Pavlovna,  weighing 
and  chiselling  clearly  every  word,  in  diplomatic 
fashion,  respectfully  listening  to  her  replies  to  the 
very  end.  But  the  importance  of  his  diplomatic 
tone  had  no  effect  on  Varvara  Pavlovna,  did  not 
communicate  itself  to  her.  Quite  the  contrary: 
she  gazed  into  his  face  with  merry  attention, 
talked  in  a  free-and-easy  way,  and  her  delicate 
nostrils  quivered  slightly,  as  though  with  sup- 
pressed laughter.  Mary  a  Dmitrievna  began  to 
extol  her  talent;  Panshin  inclined  his  head  as 
politely  as  his  collar  permitted,  declared  that  "  he 
was  convinced  of  it  in  advance," — and  turned 
the  conversation  almost  on  Metternich  himself. 
Varvara  Pavlovna  narrowed  her  velvety  eyes, 
and  saying,  in  a  low  tone:  "  Why,  you  also  are  an 
artist  yourself,  un  confrere" — added  in  a  still 
lower  tone:  "  Venezl" — and  nodded  her  head  in 
the  direction  of  the  piano.  That  one  carelessly 
dropped  word :  "  Venezl " — instantaneously,  as 
though  by  magic,  altered  Panshin's  entire  aspect. 
His  careworn  mien  vanished;  he  smiled,  became 
animated,  unbuttoned  his  coat,  and  repeating: 
"  What  sort  of  an  artist  am  I,  alas !  But  you,  I 
hear,  are  a  genuine  artist " — wended  his  way,  in 
company  with  Varvara  Pavlovna,  to  the  piano. 
"Make  him  sing  his  romance: — 'When  the 
moon  floats,'  " — exclaimed  Marya  Dmitrievna. 

250 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Do  you  sing?  " — said  Varvara  Pavlovna,  il- 
luminating him  with  a  bright,  swift  glance. — 
"  Sit  down." 

Panshin  began  to  decline. 

"  Sit  down," — she  repeated,  insistently  tap- 
ping the  back  of  the  chair. 

He  sat  down,  coughed,  pulled  open  his  collar, 
and  sang  his  romance. 

"Charmant! "■ — said  Varvara  Pavlovna : — 
"  you  sing  beautifully,  vous  avez  du  style, — sing 
it  again." 

She  walked  round  the  piano,  and  took  up  her 
stand  directly  opposite  Panshin.  He  sang  his 
romance  again,  imparting  a  melodramatic  quiver 
to  his  voice.  Varvara  Pavlovna  gazed  intently 
at  him,  with  her  elbows  propped  on  the  piano, 
and  her  white  hands  on  a  level  with  her  lips. 
Panshin  finished. 

"Charmant,  charmante  idee" — said  she,  with 
the  calm  confidence  of  an  expert. — "  Tell  me, 
have  you  written  anything  for  the  female  voice, 
for  a  mezzo-soprano? ' 

"  I  hardly  write  anything," — replied  Panshin; 
— "  you  see,  I  only  do  this  sort  of  thing  in  the  in- 
tervals between  business  affairs  ....  but  do 
you  sing? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh!  do  sing  something  for  us," — said  Marya 
Dmitrievna 

Varvara  Pavlovna  pushed  back  her  hair  from 

251 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

her  flushed  cheeks  with  her  hand,  and  shook  her 
head. 

"  Our  voices  ought  to  go  well  together," — she 
said,  turning  to  Panshin: — "  let  us  sing  a  duet. 
Do  you  know  '  Son  geloso,'  or  '  La  ci  darem,'  or 
'  Mira  la  bianca  luna  '  ?  " 

"  I  used  to  sing  '  Mira  la  bianca  luna,'  " — re- 
plied Panshin : — "  but  I  have  forgotten  it  long 
ago." 

"  Never  mind,  we  will  try  it  over  in  an  under- 
tone.   Let  me  come." 

Varvara  Pavlovna  sat  down  at  the  piano.  Pan- 
shin stood  beside  her.  They  sang  the  duet  in  an 
undertone,  Varvara  Pavlovna  correcting  him  sev- 
eral times ;  then  they  sang  it  aloud,  then  they  re- 
peated it  twice :  "  Mira  la  bianca  lu  .  . .  u  .  . .  una." 
Varvara  Pavlovna's  voice  had  lost  its  freshness, 
but  she  managed  it  very  adroitly.  Panshin  was 
timid  at  first,  and  sang  rather  out  of  tune,  but 
later  on  he  warmed  up,  and  if  he  did  not  sing 
faultlessly,  at  least  he  wriggled  his  shoulders, 
swayed  his  whole  body,  and  elevated  his  hand 
now  and  then,  like  a  genuine  singer.  Varvara 
Pavlovna  played  two  or  three  little  things  of 
Thalberg's,  and  coquettishly  "  recited  "  a  French 
ariette.  Marya  Dmftrievna  no  longer  knew  how 
to  express  her  delight;  several  times  she  was  on 
the  point  of  sending  for  Liza;  Gedeonovsky,  also, 
found  no  words  and  merely  rocked  his  head, — but 
all  of  a  sudden  he  yawned,  and  barely  succeeded 

252 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

in  concealing  his  mouth  with  his  hand.  This 
yawn  did  not  escape  Varvara  Pavlovna;  she  sud- 
denly turned  her  back  to  the  piano,  said:  "Assez 
de  musique,  comme  ca;  let  us  chat," — and  folded 
her  hands.  "  Oui,  assez  de  musique" — merrily 
repeated  Panshin — and  struck  up  a  conversation 
with  her, — daring,  light,  in  the  French  language. 
"  Exactly  as  in  the  best  Parisian  salon," — 
thought  Marya  Dmitrievna,  as  she  listened  to 
their  evasive  and  nimble  speeches.  Panshin  felt 
perfectly  contented ;  his  eyes  sparkled,  he  smiled ; 
at  first,  he  passed  his  hand  over  his  face,  con- 
tracted his  brows,  and  sighed  spasmodically  when 
he  chanced  to  meet  the  glances  of  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna; but  later  on,  he  entirely  forgot  her,  and 
surrendered  himself  completely  to  the  enjoyment 
of  the  half -fashionable,  half -artistic  chatter. 
Varvara  Pavlovna  showed  herself  to  be  a  great 
philosopher:  she  had  an  answer  ready  for  every- 
thing, she  did  not  hesitate  over  anything,  she 
doubted  nothing;  it  could  be  seen  that  she  had 
talked  much  and  often  with  clever  persons  of 
various  sorts.  All  her  thoughts,  all  her  feelings, 
circled  about  Paris.  Panshin  turned  the  conver- 
sation on  literature :  it  appeared  that  she,  as  well 
as  he,  read  only  French  books:  Georges  Sand 
excited  her  indignation;  Balzac  she  admired,  al- 
though he  fatigued  her;  in  Sue  and  Scribe  she 
discerned  great  experts  of  the  heart;  she  adored 
Dumas   and   Feval;  in  her  soul   she   preferred 

253 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Paul  de  Kock  to  the  whole  of  them,  but,  of 
course,  she  did  not  even  mention  his  name.  To 
tell  the  truth,  literature  did  not  interest  her 
greatly.  Varvara  Pavlovna  very  artfully  avoided 
everything  which  could  even  distantly  recall  her 
position;  there  was  not  a  hint  about  love  in  her 
remarks:  on  the  contrary,  they  were  rather  dis- 
tinguished by  severity  toward  the  impulses  of 
passion,  by  disenchantment,  by  meekness.  Pan- 
shin  retorted;  she  disagreed  with  him  ....  but, 
strange  to  say ! — at  the  very  time  when  words  of 
condemnation,  often  harsh,  were  issuing  from  her 
lips,  the  sound  of  those  words  caressed  and  ener- 
vated, and  her  eyes  said precisely  what 

those  lovely  eyes  said,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
state;  but  their  speech  was  not  severe,  not  clear, 
yet  sweet.  Panshin  endeavoured  to  understand 
their  mysterious  significance,  endeavoured  to  talk 
with  his  own  eyes,  but  he  was  conscious  that  he 
was  not  at  all  successful;  he  recognised  the  fact 
that  Varvara  Pavlovna,  in  her  quality  of  a  genu- 
ine foreign  lioness,  stood  above  him,  and  there- 
fore he  was  not  in  full  control  of  himself.  Var- 
vara Pavlovna  had  a  habit,  while  talking,  of 
lightly  touching  the  sleeve  of  her  interlocutor; 
these  momentary  touches  greatly  agitated  Vla- 
dimir Nikolaitch.  Varvara  Pavlovna  possessed 
the  art  of  getting  on  easily  with  every  one;  two 
hours  had  not  elapsed  before  it  seemed  to  Pan- 
shin  that  he  had  known  her  always,  and  Liza, 

254 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

that  same  Liza,  whom  he  loved,  nevertheless,  to 
whom  he  had  offered  his  hand  on  the  preceding 
day, — vanished  as  in  a  mist.  Tea  was  served ;  the 
conversation  became  still  more  unconstrained. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  rang  for  her  page,  and  or- 
dered him  to  tell  Liza  to  come  down-stairs  if  her 
head  felt  better.  Panshin,  on  hearing  Liza's 
name,  set  to  talking  about  self-sacrifice,  about 
who  was  the  more  capable  of  sacrifice — man  or 
woman?  Marya  Dmitrievna  immediately  be- 
came agitated,  began  to  assert  that  woman  is 
the  more  capable,  declared  that  she  would  prove 
it  in  two  words,  got  entangled,  and  wound  up 
by  a  decidedly  infelicitous  comparison.  Varvara 
Pavlovna  picked  up  a  music-book,  half -concealed 
herself  with  it,  and  leaning  over  in  the  direction 
of  Panshin,  nibbling  at  a  biscuit,  with  a  calm 
smile  on  her  lips  and  in  her  glance,  she  remarked, 
in  an  undertone :  "Elle  n'a  pas  invente  la  poudre, 
la  bonne  dame."  Panshin  was  somewhat  alarmed 
and  amazed  at  Varvara  Pavlovna's  audacity ;  but 
he  did  not  understand  how  much  scorn  for  him, 
himself,  was  concealed  in  that  unexpected  sally, 
and,  forgetting  the  affection  and  the  devotion  of 
Marya  Dmitrievna,  forgetting  the  dinners  where- 
with she  had  fed  him,  the  money  which  she  had 
lent  him, — he,  with  the  same  little  smile,  the  same 
tone,  replied  (unlucky  wight!)  :  "  Je  crois  bien',' 
— <and  not  even:  "Je  crois  bien,"  but: — "Je  crois 
ben! " 

255 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Varvara  Pavlovna  cast  a  friendly  glance  at 
him,  and  rose.  Liza  had  entered;  in  vain  had 
Marfa  Timofeevna  sought  to  hold  her  back:  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  to  endure  the  trial  to  the 
end.  Varvara  Pavlovna  advanced  to  meet  her, 
in  company  with  Panshin,  on  whose  face  the  for- 
mer diplomatic  expression  had  again  made  its 
appearance. 

"  How  is  your  health?  " — he  asked  Liza. 

'  I  feel  better  now,  thank  you," — she  replied. 

"  We  have  been  having  a  little  music  here;  it  is 
a  pity  that  you  did  not  hear  Varvara  Pavlovna. 
She  sings  superbly,  un  artiste  consommee." 

"  Come  here,  ma  cherie" — rang  out  Marya 
Dmitrievna's  voice. 

Varvara  Pavlovna  instantly,  with  the  submis- 
siveness  of  a  little  child,  went  up  to  her,  and 
seated  herself  on  a  small  tabouret  at  her  feet. 
Marya  Dmitrievna  had  called  her  for  the  pur- 
pose of  leaving  her  daughter  alone  with  Panshin, 
if  only  for  a  moment :  she  still  secretly  cherished 
the  hope  that  the  girl  would  come  to  her  senses. 
Moreover,  a  thought  had  occurred  to  her,  to 
which  she  desired  to  give  immediate  expression. 

"  Do  you  know," — she  whispered  to  Varvara 
Pavlovna: — "  I  want  to  make  an  effort  to  re- 
concile you  with  your  husband :  I  do  not  guarantee 
success,  but  I  will  try.  You  know  that  he  has 
great  respect  for  me." 

Varvara  Pavlovna  slowly  raised  her  eyes  to 

256 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Marya  Dmitrievna,  and  clasped  her  hands 
prettily. 

"  You  would  be  my  saviour,  ma  tante" — she 
said,  in  a  mournful  voice: — "  I  do  not  know  how 
to  thank  you  for  all  your  affection ;  but  I  am  too 
guilty  toward  Feodor  Ivanitch;  he  cannot  for- 
give me." 

"  But  is  it  possible  that  you  ....  really " 

began  Marya  Dmitrievna,  with  curiosity. 

"  Do  not  ask  me," — Varvara  Pavlovna  inter- 
rupted her,  and  dropped  her  eyes. — "  I  was 
young,  giddy.  .  .  .  However,  I  do  not  wish  to 
defend  myself." 

'  Well,  nevertheless,  why  not  make  the  effort  ? 
Do  not  despair," — returned  Marya  Dmitrievna, 
and  was  on  the  point  of  patting  her  on  the  shoul- 
der, but  glanced  at  her  face — and  grew  timid. 
"  She  is  a  modest,  modest  creature," — she 
thought, — "  and  exactly  like  a  young  girl  still." 

"  Are  you  ill?  " — Panshin  was  saying,  mean- 
while, to  Liza. 

"  Yes,  I  am  not  very  well." 

"  I  understand  you," — he  said,  after  a  rather 
prolonged  silence. — "  Yes,  I  understand  you." 

"How  so?" 

"  I  understand  you," — significantly  repeated 
Panshin,  who  simply  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

Liza  became  confused,  and  then  said  to  her- 
self: "  So  be  it! '  Panshin  assumed  a  mysterious 
air,  and  fell  silent,  gazing  severely  to  one  side. 

257 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 


<< 


But  the  clock  has  struck  eleven,  I  think," — 
remarked  Marya  Dmitrievna. 

The  guests  understood  the  hint,  and  began  to 
take  their  leave.  Varvara  Pavlovna  was  made  to 
promise  that  she  would  come  to  dinner  on  the 
morrow,  and  bring  Ada;  Gedeonovsky,  who  had 
almost  fallen  asleep  as  he  sat  in  one  corner,  of- 
fered to  escort  her  home.  Panshin  solemnly  sa- 
luted every  one,  and  at  the  steps,  as  he  put  Var- 
vara Pavlovna  into  her  carriage,  he  pressed  her 
hand  and  shouted  after  her:  " Au  revoir!"  Gedeo- 
novsky seated  himself  by  her  side;  all  the  way 
home,  she  amused  herself  by  placing  the  tip  of 
her  foot  on  his  foot,  as  though  by  accident;  he 
became  confused,  and  paid  her  compliments;  she 
giggled  and  made  eyes  at  him  when  the  light 
from  a  street-lantern  fell  on  the  carriage.  The 
waltz  which  she  had  herself  played,  rang  in  her 
head,  and  excited  her;  wherever  she  happened  to 
find  herself,  all  she  had  to  do  was  to  imagine  to 
herself  lights,  a  ball-room,  the  swift  whirling  to 
the  sounds  of  music — and  her  soul  went  fairly 
aflame,  her  eyes  darkened  strangely,  a  smile  hov- 
ered over  her  lips,  something  gracefully-bacchic 
was  disseminated  all  over  her  body.  On  arriving 
at  home,  Varvara  Pavlovna  sprang  lightly  from 
the  carriage, — only  fashionable  lionesses  know 
how  to  spring  out  in  that  way, — turned  to  Ge- 
deonovsky, and  suddenly  burst  into  a  ringing 
laugh,  straight  in  his  face. 

258 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  A  charming  person," — thought  the  State 
Councillor,  as  he  wended  his  way  homeward  to  his 
lodgings,  where  his  servant  was  awaiting  him 
with  a  bottle  of  eau  de  Cologne: — "  it  is  well  that 
I  am  a  staid  man  ....  only,  what  was  she 
laughing  at? " 

Marf  a  Timof  eevna  sat  all  night  long  by  Liza's 
pillow. 


259 


XLI 

Lavbetzky  spent  a  day  and  a  half  at  Vasiliev- 
skoe,  and  during  nearly  the  whole  of  that  time 
he  wandered  about  the  neighbourhood.  He  could 
not  remain  long  in  one  place:  anguish  gnawed 
him;  he  experienced  all  the  torture  of  incessant, 
impetuous,  and  impotent  impulses.  He  recalled 
the  feeling  which  had  taken  possession  of  his 
soul  on  the  day  following  his  arrival  in  the  coun- 
try; he  recalled  his  intentions  at  that  time,  and 
waxed  very  angry  with  himself.  What  could 
have  torn  him  away  from  that  which  he  recog- 
nised as  his  duty,  the  sole  task  of  his  future?  The 
thirst  for  happiness — once  more,  the  thirst  for 
happiness ! — "  Obviously,  Mikhalevitch  is  right," 
he  thought.  "  Thou  hast  wished  once  more  to 
taste  of  happiness  in  life," — he  said  to  himself, — 
"  thou  hast  forgotten  what  a  luxury,  what  an 
unmerited  mercy  it  is  when  it  has  visited  a  man 
even  once.  It  was  not  complete,  thou  wilt  say? 
But  put  forth  thy  claims  to  complete,  genuine 
happiness !  Look  about  thee :  who  of  those  around 
thee  is  blissful,  who  enjoys  himself?  Yonder, 
a  peasant  is  driving  to  the  reaping;  perchance, 
he  is  satisfied  with  his  lot.  .  .  .  What  of  that? 
Wouldst  thou  change  with  him?  Remember 
thy  mother:  how  insignificantly  small  were  her 

260 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

demands,  and  what  lot  fell  to  her  share?  Thou 
hast,  evidently,  only  been  bragging  before  Pan- 
shin,  when  thou  saidst  to  him,  that  thou  hadst 
come  to  Russia  in  order  to  till  the  earth;  thou 
hast  come  in  order  to  run  after  the  girls  in  thine 
old  age.  The  news  of  thy  freedom  came,  and 
thou  didst  discard  everything,  thou  didst  forget 
everything,  thou  didst  run  like  a  little  boy  after 
a  butterfly."  ....  Liza's  image  uninterruptedly 
presented  itself  before  his  thoughts;  with  an  ef- 
fort he  drove  it  away,  as  he  did  also  another 
importunate  image,  other  imperturbably-crafty, 
beautiful,  and  detested  features.  Old  Anton  no- 
ticed that  his  master  was  not  himself ;  after  heav- 
ing several  sighs  outside  the  door,  and  several 
more  on  the  threshold,  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
approach  him,  and  advised  him  to  drink  some- 
thing warm.  Lavretzky  shouted  at  him,  ordered 
him  to  leave  the  room,  but  afterward  begged  his 
pardon ;  but  this  caused  Anton  to  grow  still  more 
disconsolate.  Lavretzky  could  not  sit  in  the 
drawing-room ;  he  felt  as  though  his  great-grand- 
father Andrei  were  gazing  scornfully  from  the 
canvas  at  his  puny  descendant. — "  Ekh,  look  out 
for  thyself !  thou  art  sailing  in  shoal  water ! "  his 
lips,  pursed  up  on  one  side,  seemed  to  be  saying. 
"  Can  it  be," — he  thought, — "  that  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  conquer  myself, — that  I  shall  give  in  to 
this — nonsense?"  (The  severely -wounded  in  war 
alwavs  call  their  wounds  "  nonsense."    If  a  man 

261 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

could  not  deceive  himself, — he  could  not  live  on 
the  earth.)  "Am  I  really  a  miserable  little  boy? 
Well,  yes:  I  have  beheld  close  by,  I  have  almost 
held  in  my  hand,  the  possibility  of  happiness  for 
my  whole  life — it  has  suddenly  vanished;  and  in 
a  lottery,  if  you  turn  the  wheel  just  a  little  fur- 
ther, a  poor  man  might  become  a  rich  one.  If  it 
was  not  to  be,  it  was  not  to  be, — and  that 's  the 
end  of  the  matter.  I  '11  set  to  work,  with  clenched 
teeth,  and  I  will  command  myself  to  hold  my 
tongue ;  luckily,  it  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  had 
to  take  myself  in  hand.  And  why  did  I  run 
away,  why  am  I  sitting  here,  with  my  head 
thrust  into  a  bush,  like  an  ostrich?  To  be  afraid 
to  look  catastrophe  in  the  face — is  nonsense! — 
Anton!" — he  called  loudly, — "order  the  taran- 
tas  to  be  harnessed  up  immediately.  Yes," — 
he  meditated  once  more, — "  I  must  command 
myself  to  hold  my  tongue,  I  must  keep  a  tight 
rein  on  myself."  .... 

With  such  arguments  did  Lavretzky  strive  to 
alleviate  his  grief ;  but  it  was  great  and  powerful ; 
and  even  Apraxyeya,  who  had  outlived  not  so 
much  her  mind  as  every  feeling,  even  Apraxyeya 
shook  her  head,  and  sorrowfully  followed  him 
with  her  eyes,  when  he  seated  himself  in  the 
tarantas,  in  order  to  drive  to  the  town.  The 
horses  galloped  off;  he  sat  motionless  and  up- 
right, and  stared  impassively  ahead  along  the 
road. 

262 


XLII 

Liza  had  written  to  Lavretzky  on  the  day  be- 
fore, that  he  was  to  come  to  their  house  in  the 
evening ;  but  he  first  went  up  to  his  own  quarters. 
He  did  not  find  either  his  wife  or  his  daughter  at 
home ;  from  the  servants  he  learned  that  she  had 
gone  with  her  to  the  Kalitins'.  This  news  both 
startled  and  enraged  him.  "  Evidently,  Varvara 
Pavlovna  is  determined  not  to  give  me  a  chance  to 
live," — he  thought,  with  the  excitement  of  wrath 
in  his  heart.  He  began  to  stride  to  and  fro, 
incessantly  thrusting  aside  with  his  feet  and 
hands  the  child's  toys,  the  books,  and  the  femi- 
nine appurtenances  which  came  in  his  way;  he 
summoned  Justine,  and  ordered  her  to  remove  all 
that  "  rubbish." — " Oul,  monsieur" — said  she, 
with  a  grimace,  and  began  to  put  the  room  in 
order,  gracefully  bending,  and  giving  Lavretzky 
to  understand,  by  every  movement,  that  she  re- 
garded him  as  an  unlicked  bear.  With  hatred  he 
watched  her  worn  but  still  "  piquant,"  sneering, 
Parisian  face,  her  white  cuffs,  her  silken  apron, 
and  light  cap.  He  sent  her  away,  at  last,  and 
after  long  wavering  (Varvara  Pavlovna  still  did 
not  return)  he  made  up  his  mind  to  betake  him- 

263 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

self  to  the  Kalitins', — not  to  Marya  Dmftrievna 
—  (not,  on  any  account,  would  he  have  entered 
her  drawing-room,  that  drawing-room  where  his 
wife  was ) ,  but  to  Marf a  Timof  eevna ;  he  remem- 
bered that  a  rear  staircase  from  the  maids'  en- 
trance led  straight  to  her  rooms.  This  is  what 
Lavretzky  did.  Chance  favoured  him:  in  the 
yard  he  met  Schurotchka;  she  conducted  him  to 
Marfa  Timofeevna.  He  found  her,  contrary  to 
her  wont,  alone ;  she  was  sitting  in  a  corner,  with 
hair  uncovered,  bowed  over,  with  her  hands  clasped 
in  her  lap.  On  perceiving  Lavretzky,  the  old 
woman  was  greatly  alarmed,  rose  briskly  to  her 
feet,  and  began  to  walk  hither  and  yon  in  the 
room,  as  though  in  search  of  her  cap. 

"  Ah,  here  thou  art,  here  thou  art," — she  began, 
avoiding  his  gaze,  and  bustling  about — "  well, 
how  do  you  do?  Come,  what  now?  What  is  to 
be  done?  Where  wert  thou  yesterday?  Well,  she 

has  come, — well,  yes.    Well,  we  must  just 

somehow  or  other." 

Lavretzky  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"  Come,  sit  down,  sit  down," — went  on  the  old 
woman. — "  Thou  hast  come  straight  up-stairs. 
Well,  yes,  of  course.  What?  thou  art  come  to 
look  at  me?    Thanks." 

The  old  woman  was  silent  for  a  while ;  Lavret- 
zky did  not  know  what  to  say  to  her ;  but  she  un- 
derstood him. 

"  Liza  ....  yes,  Liza  was  here  just  now," — 

264 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

went  on  Marfa  Timofeevna,  tying  and  untying 
the  cords  of  her  reticule.  "  She  is  not  quite  well. 
Schurotchka,  where  art  thou?  Come  hither,  my 
mother,  why  canst  thou  not  sit  still  ?  And  I  have 
a  headache.  It  must  be  from  that — from  the  sing- 
ing and  from  the  music." 

"  From  what  singing,  aunty?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  they  keep  singing — what 
do  you  call  it? — duets.  And  always  in  Italian: 
tchi-tchi,  and  tcha-tcha,  regular  magpies.  They 
begin  to  drag  the  notes  out,  and  it 's  just  like  tug- 
ging at  your  soul.  Panshin  and  that  wife  of 
yours.  And  all  that  has  come  about  so  quickly; 
already  they  are  on  the  footing  of  relatives,  they 
do  not  stand  on  ceremony.  However,  I  will  say 
this  much:  even  a  dog  seeks  a  refuge;  no  harm 
will  come  to  her,  so  long  as  people  don't  turn  her 
out." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  must  confess  that  I  did  not 
expect  this," — replied  Lavretzky: — "it  must 
have  required  great  boldness." 

"  No,  my  dear  soul,  that  is  not  boldness;  it  is 
calculation.  The  Lord  be  with  her — I  want 
nothing  to  do  with  her!  They  tell  me  that  thou 
art  sending  her  to  Lavriki, — is  it  true?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  placing  that  estate  at  the  disposal 
of  Varvara  Pavlovna." 

"  Has  she  asked  for  money?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Well,  it  will  not  be  long  before  she  does. 

265 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

But  I  have  only  just  taken  a  good  look  at  thee. 
Art  thou  well?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Schurotchka," — suddenly  cried  Marfa  Timo- 
feevna: — "go,  and  tell  Lizaveta  Mildiailovna — 
that  is  to  say,  no,  ask  her  .  .  .  she  's  down-stairs, 
isn't  she?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Well,  yes;  then  ask  her:  '  Where  did  she  put 
my  book?'     She  knows." 

"  I  obey,  ma'am." 

Again  the  old  woman  began  to  bustle  about, 
and  to  open  the  drawers  of  her  commode.  La- 
vretzky  sat  motionless  on  his  chair. 

Suddenly  light  footsteps  became  audible  on 
the  stairs — and  Liza  entered.  Lavretzky  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  bowed ;  Liza  halted  by  the  door. 

"  Liza,  Lizotchka," — said  Marfa  Timofeevna 
hastily; — "where  is  my  book,  where  didst  thou 
put  my  book?  " 

"  What  book,  aunty?  " 

"  Why,  my  book;  good  heavens!  However,  I 
did  not  call  thee  ....  Well,  it  makes  no  differ- 
ence. What  are  you  doing  there — down-stairs? 
See  here,  Feodor  Ivanitch  has  come. — How  is 
thy  head? " 

"  It  is  all  right." 

"Thou  art  always  saying:  'It  is  all  right.' 
What 's  going  on  with  you  down-stairs, — music 
again  f 

266 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  No — they  are  playing  cards." 

"  Yes,  of  course,  she  is  up  to  everything. 
Schurotchka,  I  perceive  that  thou  wishest  to 
have  a  run  in  the  garden.    Go  along." 

"  Why,  no,  Marf  a  Timof  eevna " 

"Don't  argue,  if  you  please.  Go!  Nastasya 
Karpovna  has  gone  into  the  garden  alone:  stay 
with  her.  Respect  the  old  woman." — Schurotchka 
left  the  room. — "  Why,  where  is  my  cap?  Really, 
now,  where  has  it  got  to?  " 

"  Pray  let  me  look  for  it," — said  Liza. 

'  Sit  down,  sit  down ;  my  own  legs  have  n't 
given  out  yet.  I  must  have  left  it  yonder,  in  my 
bedroom." 

And,  casting  a  sidelong  glance  at  Lavretzky, 
Marfa  Timofeevna  left  the  room.  She  was  on 
the  point  of  leaving  the  door  open,  but  suddenly 
turned  round  toward  it,  and  shut  it. 

Liza  leaned  against  the  back  of  her  chair,  and 
gently  lifted  her  hands  to  her  face;  Lavretzky 
remained  standing,  as  he  was. 

"  This  is  how  we  were  to  meet  again," — he 
said,  at  last. 

Liza  took  her  hands  from  her  face. 

"  Yes," — she  said  dully: — "  we  were  promptly 
punished." 

"Punished?" — said  Lavretzky.  "But  what 
were  you  punished  for?  " 

Liza  raised  her  eyes  to  him.  They  expressed 
neither  grief  nor  anxiety:  they  looked  smaller 

267 


\ 

A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  dimmer.  Her  face  was  pale;  her  slightly 
parted  lips  had  also  grown  pale. 

Lavretzky's  heart  shuddered  with  pity  and 
with  love. 

"  You  wrote  to  me :  '  All  is  at  an  end/  " — he 
whispered: — "Yes,  all  is  at  an  end — before  it 
has  begun." 

"  We  must  forget  all  that," — said  Liza: — "  I 
am  glad  that  you  came ;  I  wanted  to  write  to  you, 
but  it  is  better  thus.  Only,  we  must  make  use, 
as  promptly  as  possible,  of  these  minutes.  It  re- 
mains for  both  of  us  to  do  our  duty.  You,  Feo- 
dor  Ivanitch,  ought  to  become  reconciled  to  your 
wife." 

"Liza!" 

"  I  implore  you  to  do  it;  in  that  way  alone 
can  we  expiate  .  .  .  everything  which  has  taken 
place.  Think  it  over — and  you  will  not  refuse 
me." 

"  Liza,  for  God's  sake, — you  are  demanding 
the  impossible.  I  am  ready  to  do  everything  you 
command ;  but  become  reconciled  to  her  now!  .  .  . 
I  agree  to  everything,  I  have  forgotten  every- 
thing; but  I  cannot  force  my  heart  to 

Have  mercy,  this  is  cruel!  " 

"  I  do  not  require  from  you  .  .  .  what  you 
think;  do  not  live  with  her,  if  you  cannot;  but 
become  reconciled," — replied  Liza,  and  again 
raised  her  hand  to  her  eyes. — "  Remember  your 
little  daughter;  do  this  for  me." 

268 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

'  Very  well," — said  Lavretzky,  through  his 
teeth: — "  I  will  do  it;  let  us  assume  that  thereby 
I  am  fulfilling  my  duty.  Well,  and  you — in 
what  does  your  duty  consist?  " 

"  I  know  what  it  is." 

Lavretzky  suddenly  started. 

"  Surely,  you  are  not  preparing  to  marry  Pan- 
shin?  " — he  asked. 

Liza  smiled  almost  imperceptibly. 

"  Oh,  no !  " — she  said. 

'  Akh,  Liza,  Liza!" — cried  Lavretzky: — ■ 
"  how  happy  we  might  have  been!  " 

Again  Liza  glanced  at  him. 

"  Now  you  see  yourself,  Feodor  Ivanitch,  that 
happiness  does  not  depend  upon  us,  but  upon 
God." 

"  Yes,  because  you  .  .  .  ." 

The  door  of  the  adjoining  room  opened 
swiftly,  and  Marfa  Timofeevna  entered,  with  her 
cap  in  her  hand. 

"  I  have  found  it  at  last," — she  said,  taking 
up  her  stand  between  Lavretzky  and  Liza. — "  I 
had  mislaid  it  myself.  That 's  what  it  is  to  be 
old,  alack!  However,  youth  is  no  better.  Well, 
and  art  thou  going  to  Lavriki  thyself,  with  thy 
wife?  " — she  added,  addressing  Feodor  Ivanitch. 

"With  her,  to  Lavriki? — I  do  not  know," — 
he  said,  after  a  pause. 

Thou  art  not  going  down-stairs?  " 
Not  to-day." 

269 


«« 
<< 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 


<< 


Well,  very  good,  as  it  pleases  thee;  but  I 
think  thou  shouldst  go  down-stairs,  Liza.  Akh, 
gracious  goodness ! — and  I  have  forgotten  to  give 
the  bullfinch  his  food.  Just  wait,  I  '11  be  back 
directly " 

And  Marfa  Timofeevna  ran  out  of  the  room, 
without  putting  on  her  cap. 

Lavretzky  went  quickly  up  to  Liza. 

"Liza," — he  began  in  a  beseeching  voice: — 
"  we  are  parting  forever,  my  heart  is  breaking, — 
give  me  your  hand  in  farewell." 

Liza  raised  her  head.  Her  weary,  almost  ex- 
tinct gaze  rested  on  him.  .  . 

"  No," — she  said,  and  drew  back  the  hand 
which  she  had  already  put  forward — "  no.  La- 
vretzky " —  (she  called  him  thus,  for  the  first 
time) — "  I  will  not  give  you  my  hand.  To  what 
end?  Go  away,  I  entreat  you.  You  know  that  I 
love  you," — she  added,  with  an  effort: — "  but  no 
.  .  .  no." 

And  she  raised  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

The  door  creaked.  .  .  The  handkerchief  slipped 
off  Liza's  knees.  Lavretzky  caught  it  before 
it  fell  to  the  floor,  hastily  thrust  it  into  his  side 
pocket,  and,  turning  round,  his  eyes  met  those 
of  Marfa  Timofeevna. 

"  Lizotchka,  I  think  thy  mother  is  calling 
thee," — remarked  the  old  woman. 

Liza  immediately  rose,  and  left  the  room. 

270 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Marf  a  Timof  eevna  sat  down  again  in  her  cor- 
ner.   Lavretzky  began  to  take  leave  of  her. 

"  Fedya," — she  suddenly  said. 

"What,  aunty?" 

"Art  thou  an  honourable  man?" 

"  What? " 

"  I  ask  thee:  art  thou  an  honourable  man?  ' 
I  hope  so." 

H'm.    But  give  me  thy  word  of  honour  that 
thou  art  an  honourable  man." 

"  Certainly.— But  why?  " 

"  I  know  why.  Yes,  and  thou  also,  my  bene- 
factor, if  thou  wilt  think  it  over  well, — for  thou 
art  not  stupid, — wilt  understand  thyself  why  I 
ask  this  of  thee.  And  now,  farewell,  my  dear. 
Thanks  for  thy  visit ;  and  remember  the  word  that 
has  been  spoken,  Fedya,  and  kiss  me.  Okh,  my 
soul,  it  is  hard  for  thee,  I  know:  but  then,  life  is 
not  easy  for  any  one.  That  is  why  I  used  to 
envy  the  flies ;  here,  I  thought,  is  something  that 
finds  life  good;  but  once,  in  the  night,  I  heard  a 
fly  grieving  in  the  claws  of  a  spider, — no,  I 
thought,  a  thundercloud  hangs  over  them  also. 
What  is  to  be  done,  Fedya?  but  remember  thy 
word,  nevertheless. — Go." 

Lavretzky  emerged  from  the  back  entrance, 
and  was  already  approaching  the  gate  .  .  .  when 
a  lackey  overtook  him. 

Marya  Dmitrievna  ordered  me  to  ask  you  to 

271 


a 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

be  so  good  as  to  come  to  her," — he  announced  to 
Lavretzky. 

"  Say  to  her,  my  good  fellow,  that  I  cannot  at 
present  ..."  began  Feodor  Ivanitch. 

'  She  ordered  me  to  entreat  you  urgently," — 
went  on  the  lackey: — "she  ordered  me  to  say, 
that  she  is  at  home." 

"But  have  the  visitors  gone?" — asked  La- 
vretzky. 

"  Yes,  sir," — returned  the  lackey,  and  grinned. 

Lavretzky  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  fol- 
lowed him. 


272 


XLIII 

Marya  Dmitrievna  was  sitting  alone,  in  her 
boudoir,  in  a  sofa-chair,  and  sniffing  eau  de 
Cologne;  a  glass  of  orange-flower  water  was 
standing  beside  her,  on  a  small  table.  She  was 
excited,  and  seemed  to  be  timorous. 

Lavretzky  entered. 

"  You  wished  to  see  me," — he  said,  saluting 
her  coldly. 

"  Yes," — returned  Marya  Dmitrievna,  and 
drank  a  little  of  the  water.  "  I  heard  that  you 
went  straight  up-stairs  to  aunty;  I  gave  orders 
that  you  should  be  requested  to  come  to  me:  I 
must  have  a  talk  with  you.  Sit  down,  if  you 
please." — Marya     Dmitrievna     took     breath. — 

You  know," — she  went  on: — "that  your  wife 
has  arrived? " 

1  That  fact  is  known  to  me," — said  Lavretzky. 

"  Well,  yes, — that  is,  I  meant  to  say,  she  came 
to  me,  and  I  received  her ;  that  is  what  I  wish  to 
have  an  explanation  about  with  you  now,  Feodor 
Ivanitch.  I,  thank  God,  have  won  universal  re- 
spect, I  may  say,  and  I  would  not  do  anything 
improper  for  all  the  world.  Although  I  fore- 
saw that  it  would  be  disagreeable  to  you,  still,  I 

273 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  refuse  her,  Feodor 
Ivanitch;  she  is  my  relative — through  you:  put 
yourself  in  my  place — what  right  had  I  to  turn 
her  out  of  my  house? — You  agree  with  me? ' 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  your  agitating  your- 
self, Marya  Dmitrievna," — returned  Lavretzky: 
"  you  have  behaved  very  well  indeed;  I  am  not  in 
the  least  angry.  I  have  not  the  slightest  intention 
of  depriving  Varvara  Pavlovna  of  the  right  to 
see  her  acquaintances ;  I  only  refrained  from  en- 
tering your  apartments  to-day  because  I  wished 
to  avoid  meeting  her, — that  was  all." 

"  Akh,  how  delighted  I  am  to  hear  that  from 
you,  Feodor  Ivanitch," — exclaimed  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna:— "  however,  I  always  expected  this  from 
your  noble  sentiments.  But  that  I  should  feel 
agitated,  is  not  wonderful:  I  am  a  woman  and  a 
mother.  And  your  wife  ....  of  course,  I  can- 
not judge  between  her  and  you — I  told  her  so 
myself;  but  she  is  such  an  amiable  lady,  that  she 
cannot  cause  anything  but  pleasure." 

Lavretzky  laughed,  and  played  with  his  hat. 

"  And  this  is  what  I  wished  to  say  to  you,  Feo- 
dor Ivanitch," — went  on  Marya  Dmitrievna, 
moving  a  little  nearer  to  him: — "if  you  had 
only  seen  how  modestly,  how  respectfully  she 
behaves! — Really,  it  is  touching.  But  if  you  had 
heard  how  she  speaks  of  you !  '  I  am  wholly 
culpable  with  regard  to  him,'  she  says;  'I  did 
not  know  how  to  appreciate  him,'  she  says;  '  he  is 

274 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

an  angel,'  she  says,  '  not  a  man.'  Truly,  she  did 
say  that,  '  an  angel.'  She  is  so  penitent  .... 
I  never  beheld  such  penitence,  I  give  you  my 
word! " 

"  Well,  Marya  Dmitrievna," — said  Lavretzky: 
— "  permit  me  to  ask  you  a  question:  I  am  told 
that  Varvara  Pavlovna  has  been  singing  for 
you;  did  she  sing  during  her  repentance — or 
how? "  .  .  .  . 

'  Akh,  aren't  you  ashamed  to  talk  like  that! 
She  sang  and  played  merely  with  the  object  of 
giving  me  pleasure,  because  I  begged,  almost 
commanded  her  to  do  so.  I  perceive  that  she  is 
distressed — so  distressed,  I  wonder  how  I  can  di- 
vert her.  And  I  had  heard  that  she  had  such  a 
fine  talent. — Upon  my  word,  Feodor  Ivanitch, 
she  is  a  completely  crushed,  overwhelmed  woman 
— ask  Sergyei  Petrovitch  if  she  is  not,  tout  a 
fait j, — what  have  you  to  say  to  that?  " 
Lavretzky  simply  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  And  then,  what  a  little  angel  that  Ada  of 
your  is,  what  a  darling ! — How  pretty  she  is,  how 
clever!  how  well  she  talks  French;  and  she  un- 
derstands Russian — she  called  me  tyotenka 
[aunty].  And  do  you  know,  as  for  being  shy, 
like  nearly  all  children  of  her  age, — there  is  no 
shyness  about  her.  She  is  awfully  like  you, 
Feodor  Ivanitch.  Her  eyes,  her  brows  .  .  . 
well,  she 's  you  all  over  again,  your  perfect 
image.    I  am  not  very  fond  of  such  small  chil- 

275 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

dren,  I  must  confess;  but  I  have  simply  lost  my 
heart  to  your  little  daughter." 

"  Mary  a  Dmitrievna," — exclaimed  Lavret- 
zky,  suddenly: — "  allow  me  to  ask  you  why  you 
are  pleased  to  say  all  this  to  me? " 

'  Why?  " — again  Marya  Dmitrievna  sniffed 
at  her  eau  de  Cologne,  and  sipped  her  water: — 
"  I  say  it,  Feodor  Ivanitch,  because  ....  you 
see,  I  am  a  relative,  I  take  the  closest  interest 
in  you.  ...  I  know  that  you  have  the  very  kind- 
est of  hearts.  Hearken  to  me,  mon  cousin, — I 
am  a  woman  of  experience,  and  I  am  not  talking 
at  random:  forgive,  forgive  your  wife." — Marya 
Dmitrievna's  eyes  suddenly  filled  with  tears. — 
"  Reflect:  youth,  inexperience  .  .  .  well,  perhaps, 
a  bad  example — she  had  not  the  sort  of  a  mother 
who  might  have  put  her  on  the  right  road.  For- 
give her,  Feodor  Ivanitch;  she  has  been  suffi- 
ciently punished." 

Tears  trickled  down  Marya  Dmitrievna's 
cheeks ;  she  did  not  wipe  them  away :  she  loved  to 
weep.  Lavretzky  sat  as  on  hot  coals.  "  My 
God," — he  thought, — "  what  sort  of  torture,  what 
sort  of  a  day  has  fallen  to  my  lot !  " 

"  You  do  not  answer," — began  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna again: — "what  am  I  to  understand  by 
that? — is  it  possible  that  you  can  be  so  cruel?  No, 
I  will  not  believe  that.  I  feel  that  my  words 
have  convinced  you.  Feodor  Ivanitch,  God 
will  reward   you   for  your   kindness   of  heart, 

276 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

and  you  will  now  receive  your  wife  from  my 
hands.  .  .  ." 

Lavretzky  involuntarily  rose  from  his  chair; 
Marya  Dmitrievna  also  rose,  and  stepping 
briskly  behind  a  screen,  led  forth  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna.  Pale,  half -fainting,  with  eyes  cast  down, 
she  seemed  to  have  renounced  every  thought, 
every  impulse  of  her  own — to  have  placed  herself 
wholly  in  the  hands  of  Marya  Dmitrievna. 

Lavretzky  retreated  a  pace. 

"  You  were  here?  " — he  exclaimed. 

"Do  not  blame  her," — said  Marya  Dmitrievna, 
hastily; — "she  did  not  wish  to  remain  on  any 
account  whatever,  but  I  ordered  her  to  stay,  and 
placed  her  there  behind  the  screen.  She  assured 
me  that  it  would  only  make  you  more  angry;  but 
I  would  not  listen  to  her ;  I  know  you  better  than 
she  does.  Receive  your  wife  from  my  hands ;  go, 
Varya,  be  not  afraid,  fall  at  your  husband's  feet ' 
(she  tugged  at  her  hand) — "  and  my  blessing  on 

you!  .  .  .  •" 

"  Wait,  Marya  Dmitrievna," — Lavretzky  in- 
terrupted her,  in  a  dull,  but  quivering  voice: — 
"  you  are,  probably,  fond  of  sentimental  scenes," 
(Lavretzky  was  not  mistaken:  Marya  Dmitri- 
evna had  retained  from  her  boarding-school  days 
a  passion  for  a  certain  theatricalness)  ;  "  they 
amuse  you;  but  others  suffer  from  them.  How- 
ever, I  will  not  discuss  the  matter  with  you;  in 
this  scene  you  are  not  the  principal  actor.    What 

277 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

do  you  want  of  me,  madam?  " — he  added,  ad- 
dressing his  wife.  '  Have  not  I  done  for  you 
all  that  I  could  ?  Do  not  retort,  that  you  have  not 
plotted  this  meeting;  I  shall  not  believe  you, — 
and  you  know  that  I  cannot  believe  you.  What, 
then,  do  you  want?  You  are  clever, — you  never 
do  anything  without  an  object.  You  must  un- 
derstand that  I  am  not  capable  of  living  with 
you  as  I  used  to  live;  not  because  I  am  angry 
with  you,  but  because  I  have  become  a  different 
man.  I  told  you  that  on  the  day  after  your  re- 
turn, and  you  yourself,  at  that  moment,  acqui- 
esced with  me  in  your  own  soul.  But  you  wish  to 
reinstate  yourself  in  public  opinion;  it  is  not 
enough  for  you  to  live  in  my  house,  you  want  to 
live  under  one  roof  with  me, — is  not  that  the 
truth?" 

"  I  want  you  to  forgive  me," — said  Varvara 
Pavlovna,  without  raising  her  eyes. 

"  She  wants  you  to  forgive  her," — repeated 
Marya  Dmitrievna. 

"  And  not  for  my  own  sake,  but  for  Ada's," — 
whispered  Varvara  Pavlovna. 

"  Not  for  her  sake,  but  for  Ada's," — repeated 
Marya  Dmitrievna. 

"  Very  good.  You  wish  that?  " — ejaculated 
Lavretzky,  with  an  effort.  "As  you  like,  I  agree 
to  that." 

Varvara  Pavlovna  cast  a  swift  glance  at 
him,  and  Marya  Dmitrievna  cried  out: — "  Well, 

278 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

God  be  praised !  " — and  again  tugged  at  Var- 
vara Pavlovna's  hand.  "  Now  receive  from 
me " 

"Wait,  I  tell  you," — Lavretzky  interrupted 
her.  "  I  consent  to  live  with  you,  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna," — he  continued: — "  That  is  to  say,  I  will 
take  you  to  Lavriki,  and  I  will  live  with  you  as 
long  as  my  strength  holds  out,  and  then  I  shall  go 
away, — and  return  now  and  then.  You  see,  I  do 
not  wish  to  deceive  you ;  but  do  not  demand  any- 
thing more.  You  yourself  would  smile,  were  I 
to  comply  with  the  desire  of  your  respected  rela- 
tive, and  press  you  to  my  heart,  and  assure  you 
that  ....  there  had  been  no  past,  that  the  felled 
tree  could  burst  into  blossom  once  more.  But  I 
perceive  that  I  must  submit.  You  will  not  un- 
derstand that  word ;  ....  it  matters  not.  I  re- 
peat, I  will  live  with  you  ....  or,  no,  I  cannot 
promise  that  ...  I  will  join  you,  I  will  regard 
you  again  as  my  wife " 

"  But  give  her  your  hand  on  that,  at  least," — 
said  Marya  Dmitrievna,  whose  tears  were  long 
since  dried  up. 

"  Up  to  the  present  moment,  I  have  not  de- 
ceived Varvara  Pavlovna," — returned  Lavret- 
zky;— "  she  will  believe  me  as  it  is.  I  will  take 
her  to  Lavriki; — and  recollect,  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna: our  compact  will  be  regarded  as  broken 
just  as  soon  as  you  leave  that  place.  And  now, 
permit  me  to  withdraw." 

279 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

He  bowed  lo  both  ladies,  and  hastily  quitted 
the  room. 

"You  are  not  taking  her  with  you," — called 
Marya  Dmitrievna  after  him.  ..."  Let  him 
alone," — Varvara  Pavlovna  whispered  to  her, 
and  immediately  threw  her  arms  round  her,  be- 
gan to  utter  thanks,  to  kiss  her  hands,  and  to  call 
her  her  saviour. 

Marya  Dmitrievna  accepted  her  caresses  with 
condescension;  but  in  her  secret  soul  she  was 
pleased  neither  with  Lavretzky  nor  with  Varvara 
Pavlovna,  nor  with  the  whole  scene  which  she 
had  planned.  There  had  turned  out  to  be  very 
little  sentimentality;  Varvara  Pavlovna,  in  her 
opinion,  should  have  flung  herself  at  her  hus- 
band's feet. 

"  How  was  it  that  you  did  not  understand 
me?  " — she  commented: — "  why,  I  told  you: '  fall 
at  his  feet.'  "' 

"  It  was  better  thus,  dear  aunty ;  do  not  dis- 
turb yourself — everything  is  all  right," — insisted 
Varvara  Pavlovna. 

"  Well,  and  he  is  as  cold  as  ice," — remarked 
Marya  Dmitrievna.  "  Even  if  you  did  not  weep, 
why,  I  fairly  overflowed  before  him.  He  means 
to  shut  you  up  in  Lavriki.  The  idea, — and  you 
cannot  even  come  to  see  me!  All  men  are  un- 
feeling,"— she  said,  in  conclusion,  and  shook  her 
head  significantly. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  women  know  how  to 

280 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

value  kindness  and  magnanimity," — said  Var- 
vara  Pavlovna,  and  softly  dropping  on  her  knees 
before  Marya  Dmitrievna,  she  embraced  the  lat- 
ter's  corpulent  form  with  her  arms,  and  pressed 
her  face  against  her.  That  face  wore  a  quiet 
smile,  but  Marya  Dmitrievna's  tears  were  flow- 
ing again. 

And  Lavretzky  went  home,  locked  himself  up 
in  his  valet's  room,  flung  himself  on  the  divan, 
and  lay  there  until  the  morning. 


281 


XLIV 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  The  chiming  of  the 
bells  for  the  early  Liturgy  did  not  awaken  La- 
vretzky — he  had  not  closed  an  eye  all  night  long 
— but  it  did  remind  him  of  another  Sunday,  when, 
at  the  wish  of  Liza,  he  had  gone  to  church.  He 
hastily  rose;  a  certain  secret  voice  told  him  that 
he  would  see  her  there  again  to-day.  He  noise- 
lessly quitted  the  house,  ordered  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna  to  be  informed  that  he  would  return  to  din- 
ner, and  with  great  strides  wended  his  way 
thither,  whither  the  monotonously-mournful 
chiming  summoned  him.  He  arrived  early :  there 
was  hardly  any  one  in  the  church;  a  chanter  in 
the  choir  was  reading  the  Hours ;  his  voice,  occa- 
sionally broken  by  a  cough,  boomed  on  in  meas- 
ured cadence,  now  rising,  now  falling.  Lavret- 
zky  took  up  his  stand  not  far  from  the  entrance. 
The  prayerfully  inclined  arrived  one  by  one, 
paused,  crossed  themselves,  bowed  on  all  sides;1 
their  footsteps  resounded  in  the  emptiness  and 
silence,  distinctly  re-echoing  from  the  arches 
overhead.  A  decrepit  little  old  woman,  in  an 
ancient  hooded  cloak,  knelt  down  beside  Lavret- 

1  That  is — they  figuratively  begged  the  pardon  of  all  whom  they 
might  have  offended,  before  entering  on  the  Church  service.  The 
officiating  priest  does  the  same. — Translator. 

282 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

zky,  and  began  to  pray  assiduously;  her  yellow, 
toothless,  wrinkled  face  expressed  intense  emo- 
tion; her  red  eyes  gazed  fixedly  upward  at  the 
holy  picture  on  the  ikonostasis;  her  bony  hand 
kept  incessantly  emerging  from  under  her  cloak, 
and  slowly  but  vigorously  made  a  great,  sweep- 
ing sign  of  the  cross.  A  peasant,  with  a  thick 
beard  and  a  surly  face,  tousled  and  dishevelled, 
entered  the  church,  went  down  at  once  on  both 
knees,  and  immediately  set  to  crossing  himself, 
hastily  flinging  back  his  head  and  shaking  it  after 
every  prostration.  Such  bitter  woe  was  depicted 
on  his  countenance,  and  in  all  his  movements, 
that  Lavretzky  made  up  his  mind  to  approach 
and  ask  him  what  was  the  matter.  The  peasant 
started  back  timidly  and  roughly,  and  looked  at 
him.  ..."  My  son  is  dead," — he  said,  in  hasty 
accents — and  again  began  to  prostrate  himself 
to  the  floor.  "  What  can  take  the  place,  for  them, 
of  the  consolation  of  the  church?  " — Lavretzky 
thought, — and  tried  to  pray  himself ;  but  his  heart 
had  grown  heavy  and  hard,  and  his  thoughts  were 
far  away.  He  was  still  expecting  Liza — but  Liza 
did  not  come.  The  church  began  to  fill  with 
people;  still  she  did  not  come.  The  Liturgy  be- 
gan, the  deacon  had  already  read  the  Gospel,  the 
bell   had   pealed   for   the   hymn     '  Worthy "  ; * 

1 "  Worthy  and  right  is  it,  to  bow  down  to  the  Father,  and  to  the 
Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  the  Trinity,  consubstantial  and  in- 
divisible " — at  a  very  solemn  point,  and  quite  late  in  the  Liturgy. — 
Translator. 

283 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Lavretzky  moved  a  little, — and  suddenly  caught 
sight  of  Liza.  She  had  arrived  before  him,  but 
he  had  not  descried  her;  crowded  into  the  space 
between  the  wall  and  the  choir,  she  neither 
glanced  around  nor  moved.  Lavretzky  did  not 
take  his  eyes  from  her  until  the  very  end  of  the 
Liturgy :  he  was  bidding  her  farewell.  The  con- 
gregation began  to  disperse,  but  she  still  stood 
on;  she  seemed  to  be  awaiting  Lavretzky's  de- 
parture. At  last,  she  crossed  herself  for  the  last 
time,  and  went  away,  without  looking  round ;  she 
had  only  a  maid  with  her.  Lavretzky  followed 
her  out  of  the  church,  and  overtook  her  in  the 
street;  she  was  walking  very  rapidly,  with  her 
head  bowed  and  her  veil  lowered  over  her  face. 

"  Good  morning,  Lizaveta  Mikhaflovna," — 
said  he,  loudly,  with  forced  ease: — "may  I  ac- 
company you? " 

She  said  nothing ;  he  walked  along  by  her  side. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  me?  " — he  asked  her, 
lowering  his  voice. — "  You  have  heard  what  took 
place  last  night?  " 

"Yes,  yes," — she  said  in  a  whisper: — "you 
did  well." 

And  she  walked  on  faster  than  ever. 

"  You  are  satisfied?  " 

Liza  only  nodded  her  head. 

"  Feodor  Ivanitch," — she  began,  in  a  com- 
posed, but  weak  voice: — "  I  have  wanted  to  ask 
you :  do  not  come  to  our  house  again ;  go  away  as 

284 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

speedily  as  possible;  we  can  see  each  other  later 
on, — sometime,  a  year  hence.  But  now,  do  this 
for  me;  comply  with  my  request,  for  God's  sake." 

"  I  am  ready  to  obey  you  in  all  things,  Liza- 
veta  Mikhailovna;  but  is  it  possible  that  we  are 
to  part  thus?  will  you  not  say  a  single  word  to 
me?" 

"  Feodor  Ivanitch,  here  you  are  now,  walking 
by  my  side.  But  you  are  already  far  away  from 
me.    And  not  you  alone,  but  also  .  .  .  ." 

"  Finish,  I  entreat  you!  " — exclaimed  Lavret- 
zky: — "  what  is  it  that  you  mean  to  say? ' 

:  You  will  hear,  perhaps  ....  but  whatever 
happens,  forget  .  .  .  no,  do  not  forget  me, — re- 
member me." 

"  I  forget  you!  .  .  .  ." 

"Enough;  farewell.     Do  not  follow  me." 

'  Liza  .  .  ." — Lavretzky  was  beginning. 

"  Farewell,  farewell!  " — she  repeated,  dropped 
her  veil  still  lower,  and  advanced  almost  at  a  run. 

Lavretzky  gazed  after  her,  and  dropping  his 
head,  went  back  down  the  street.  He  hit  upon 
Lemm,  who  was  also  walking  along,  with  his  hat 
pulled  down  on  his  nose,  and  staring  at  the 
ground  under  his  feet. 

They  stared  at  each  other  in  silence. 

'  Well,  what  have  you  to  say?  " — said  Lavret- 
zky at  last. 

"  What  have  I  to  say?  " — returned  Lemm  sur- 
lily:— "  I  have  nothing  to  say.     Everything  is 

285 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

dead,  and  we  are  dead.     (Alles  ist  todt  und  wir 
sind  todt. )    You  are  going  to  the  right,  I  think? ' 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  go  to  the  left.     Good-bye." 

On  the  following  morning,  Feodor  Ivanitch 
and  his  wife  set  out  for  Lavriki.  She  drove  in 
front,  in  the  carriage,  with  Ada  and  Justine ;  he 
came  behind,  in  his  tarantas.  The  pretty  little 
girl  never  quitted  the  carriage-window  during  the 
whole  journey;  she  was  surprised  at  everything: 
at  the  peasants,  the  peasant  women,  the  wells,  the 
shaft-arches,  the  carriage-bells,  at  the  multitude 
of  jackdaws;  Justine  shared  her  surprise.  Var- 
vara  Pavlovna  laughed  at  their  comments  and 
exclamations.  .  .  She  was  in  high  spirits;  before 
their  departure  from  the  town  of  O  *  *  *  she 
had  had  an  explanation  with  her  husband. 

"  I  understand  your  position," — she  had  said 
to  him, — and  he,  from  the  expression  of  her 
clever  eyes,  was  able  to  conclude  that  she  did 
fully  understand  his  position,—"  but  you  must 
do  me  the  justice,  at  least,  to  say  that  I  am  easy 
to  live  with ;  I  shall  not  obtrude  myself  upon  you, 
embarrass  you ;  I  wanted  to  assure  Ada's  future. 
I  need  nothing  further." 

"  Yes,  and  you  have  attained  your  object," — 
said  Feodor  Ivanitch. 

"  My  sole  idea  now  is  to  shut  myself  up  in  the 
wilds;  I  shall  forever  remember  your  good  deed 
in  my  prayers.  .  .  ." 

286 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  Faugh! .  .  .  enough  of  that," — he  interrupted 
her. 

"  And  I  shall  know  how  to  respect  your  inde- 
pendence, and  your  repose," — she  completed  her 
phrase,  which  she  had  prepared  in  advance. 

Lavretzky  had  made  her  a  low  bow.  Varvara 
Pavlovna  understood  that  her  husband,  in  his 
soul,  was  grateful  to  her. 

On  the  second  day,  toward  the  evening,  they 
reached  Lavriki;  a  week  later,  Lavretzky  set  off 
for  Moscow,  leaving  his  wife  five  thousand  rubles 
for  her  expenses — and  the  day  after  Lavretzky's 
departure,  Panshin,  whom  Varvara  Pavlovna 
had  begged  not  to  forget  her  in  her  isolation, 
made  his  appearance.  She  gave  him  the  warm- 
est sort  of  a  welcome,  and  until  late  into  the  night 
the  lofty  rooms  of  the  house  and  the  very  garden 
rang  with  the  sounds  of  music,  singing,  and  merry 
French  speeches.  Panshin  visited  Varvara  Pav- 
lovna for  three  days;  when  he  took  leave  of  her, 
and  warmly  pressed  her  beautiful  hands,  he 
promised  to  return  very  soon — and  he  kept  his 
promise. 


287 


XLV 

Liza  had  a  separate  little  room,  on  the  second 
story  of  her  mother's  house,  small,  clean,  bright, 
with  a  white  bed,  pots  of  flowers  in  the  corners 
and  in  front  of  the  holy  pictures,  with  a  tiny  writ- 
ing-table, a  case  of  books,  and  a  crucifix  on  the 
wall.  This  little  chamber  was  called  the  nursery ; 
Liza  had  been  born  in  it.  On  returning  to  it 
from  church,  where  she  had  seen  Lavretzky,  she 
put  everything  in  order,  even  more  carefully 
than  usual,  wiped  the  dust  off  everything,  looked 
over  and  tied  up  with  ribbons  her  note-books  and 
the  letters  of  her  friends,  locked  all  the  drawers, 
watered  the  plants,  and  touched  every  flower  with 
her  hand.  She  did  all  this  without  haste,  without 
noise,  with  a  certain  touched  and  tranquil  solici- 
tude on  her  face.  She  halted,  at  last,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room,  slowly  looked  around  her,  and 
stepping  up  to  the  table  over  which  hung  the 
crucifix,  she  knelt  down,  laid  her  head  on  her 
clasped  hands,  and  remained  motionless. 

Marfa  Timofeevna  entered,  and  found  her  in 
this  position.  Liza  did  not  notice  her  entrance. 
The  old  woman  went  outside  the  door,  on  tiptoe, 
and   gave   vent  to   several   loud   coughs.     Liza 

288 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

rose  quickly  to  her  feet,  and  wiped  her  eyes,  in 
which  glittered  clear  tears  which  had  not  fallen. 

"  I  see  that  thou  hast  been  arranging  thy  little 
cell  again," — said  Marfa  Timofeevna,  and  bent 
low  over  a  pot  containing  a  young  rose-bush: — 
"  what  a  splendid  perfume  it  has!  " 

Liza  gazed  thoughtfully  at  her  aunt. 

"  What  a  word  you  have  uttered!  " — she  whis- 
pered. 

"What  sort  of  a  word,  what  word?" — inter- 
posed the  old  woman,  vivaciously: — "what  dost 
thou  mean? — This  is  dreadful," — she  said,  sud- 
denly tearing  off  her  cap,  and  seating  herself  on 
Liza's  bed: — "this  is  beyond  my  strength!  to- 
day is  the  fourth  day  that  I  seem  to  be  seething 
in  a  kettle ;  I  can  no  longer  pretend  that  I  notice 
nothing, — I  cannot  see  thee  growing  pale,  wither- 
ing away,  weeping, — I  cannot,  I  cannot!' 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  aunty? ' 
— said  Liza: — "  I  am  all  right.  .  .  ." 

"  All  right?  " — exclaimed  Marfa  Timofeevna: 
— "  tell  that  to  others,  but  not  to  me!  All  right! 
But  who  was  it  that  was  on  her  knees  just  now? 
whose  eyelashes  are  still  wet  with  tears?  All 
right !  Why,  look  at  thyself,  what  hast  thou  done 
to  thy  face,  what  has  become  of  thine  eyes? — 
All  right!    As  though  I  did  not  know  all! ' 

"  It  will  pass  off,  aunty;  give  me  time." 
'  It  will  pass  off,  but  when  ?    O  Lord  God,  my 
Master!  is  it  possible  that  thou  didst  love  him 

289 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

so?  why,  he  is  an  old  man,  Lizotchka.  Well,  I 
do  not  dispute  that  he  is  a  good  man,  he  does  not 
bite;  but  what  does  that  signify?  we  are  all  good 
people:  the  world  is  large,  there  will  always  be 
plenty  of  that  sort." 

"  I  tell  you,  that  it  will  all  pass  off,  it  is  all 
over  already." 

"  Listen,  Lizotchka,  to  what  I  have  to  say 
to  thee," — said  Marfa  Timofeevna,  suddenly, 
making  Liza  sit  down  beside  her  on  the  bed,  and 
adjusting  now  her  hair,  now  her  kerchief. — "  It 
only  seems  to  you,  while  it  is  fresh,  that  your 
grief  is  beyond  remedy.  Ekh?  my  darling, 
for  death  alone  there  is  no  remedy !  Only  say  to 
thyself :  '  I  won't  give  in — so  there  now ! ' 
and  afterward  thou  wilt  be  amazed  thyself — how 
soon,  how  well,  it  will  pass  off.  Only  have 
patience." 

"  Aunty," — replied  Liza: — "  it  is  already  past, 
all  is  over  already." 

"  Past — over — forsooth!  Why,  even  thy  little 
nose  has  grown  pointed,  and  thou  sayest :  '  It  is 
over — it  is  over! '  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  over,  aunty,  if  you  will  only  help 
me," — cried  Liza,  with  sudden  animation,  and 
threw  herself  on  Marfa  Timofeevna's  neck. — 
"  Dear  aunty,  be  my  friend,  help  me;  do  not  be 
angry,  understand  me." 

"  Why,  what  is  this,  what  is  this,  my  mother? 
Don't  frighten  me,  please;  I  shall  scream  in  an- 

290 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

other  minute ;  don't  look  at  me  like  that :  tell  me 
quickly  what  thou  meanest?  " 

"  I  ...  I  want "  Liza  hid  her  face  in 

Marfa  Timofeevna's  bosom.  ..."  I  want  to  en- 
ter a  convent," — she  said,  in  a  dull  tone. 

The  old  woman  fairly  leaped  on  the  bed. 

"  Cross  thyself,  my  mother,  Lizotchka ;  come 
to  thy  senses:  God  be  with  thee,  what  dost  thou 
mean?  " — she  stammered  at  last:  "  lie  down,  my 
darling,  sleep  a  little:  this  comes  from  lack  of 
sleep,  my  dear." 

Liza  raised  her  head,  her  cheeks  were  burning. 

'  No,  aunty," — she  articulated,  "  do  not  speak 
like  that.  I  have  made  up  my  mind,  I  have 
prayed,  I  have  asked  counsel  of  God;  all  is 
ended,  my  life  with  you  is  ended.  Such  a  lesson 
is  not  in  vain;  and  it  is  not  the  first  time  I  have 
thought  of  this.  Happiness  was  not  suited  to 
me;  even  when  I  cherished  hopes  of  happiness, 
my  heart  was  always  heavy.  I  know  everything, 
my  own  sins  and  the  sins  of  others,  and  how  papa 
acquired  his  wealth ;  I  know  everything.  All  that 
must  be  atoned  for  by  prayer — -atoned  for  by 
prayer.  I  am  sorry  for  all  of  you — I  am  sorry 
for  mamma,  for  Lyenotchka ;  but  there  is  no  help 
for  it;  I  feel  that  I  cannot  live  here;  I  have  al- 
ready taken  leave  of  everything,  I  have  made  my 
reverence  to  everything  in  the  house  for  the  last 
time ;  something  is  calling  me  hence ;  I  am  weary ; 
I  want  to  shut  myself  up  forever.    Do  not  hold 

291 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

me  back,  do  not  dissuade  me;  help  me,  or  I  will 
go  away  alone." 

Marfa  Timofeevna  listened  in  terror  to  her 
niece. 

"  She  is  ill,  she  is  raving," — she  thought: — "  I 
must  send  for  a  doctor;  but  for  which?  Gedeo- 
novsky  was  praising  some  one  the  other  day; 
he's  always  lying,— but,  perhaps,  he  told  the 
truth  that  time."  But  when  she  became  con- 
vinced that  Liza  was  not  ill,  and  was  not  raving, 
when  to  all  her  objections  Liza  steadfastly  made 
one  and  the  same  reply,  Marfa  Timofeevna  be- 
came seriously  frightened  and  grieved. — "  But 
thou  dost  not  know,  my  darling," — she  began  to 
try  to  prevail  upon  her;— "what  sort  of  a  life 
they  lead  in  convents!  Why,  my  own  one,  they 
will  feed  thee  with  green  hemp-oil ;  they  will  put 
on  thee  coarse,  awfully  coarse  linen;  they  will 
make  thee  go  about  cold;  thou  canst  not  endure 
all  that,  Lizotchka.  All  that  is  the  traces  of  Aga- 
f ya  in  thee ;  it  was  she  who  led  thee  astray.  Why, 
she  began  by  living  her  life,  living  a  gay  life ;  do 
thou  live  thy  life  also.  Let  me,  at  least,  die  in 
peace,  and  then  do  what  thou  wilt.  And  who 
ever  heard  of  any  one  going  into  a  convent,  all 
on  account  of  such  a  goat's  beard — the  Lord  for- 
give me! — on  account  of  a  man?  Come,  if  thy 
heart  is  so  heavy,  go  away  on  a  journey,  pray  to 
a  saint,  have  a  prayer-service  said,  but  don't  put 

292 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

the  black  cowl  on  thy  head,  my  dear  little  father, 
my  dear  little  mother " 

And  Marfa  Timofeevna  began  to  weep  bit- 
terly. 

Liza  comforted  her,  wiped  away  her  tears,  but 
remained  inflexible.  In  her  despair,  Marfa 
Timofeevna  tried  to  resort  to  threats:  she  would 
tell  Liza's  mother  everything;  but  even  that  was 
of  no  avail.  Only  as  a  concession  to  the  old 
woman's  urgent  entreaties,  did  Liza  consent  to 
defer  the  fulfilment  of  her  intention  for  six 
months;  in  return,  Marfa  Timofeevna  was  com- 
pelled to  give  her  her  word  that  she  would  help 
her,  and  obtain  the  permission  of  Marya  Dmi- 
trievna  if,  at  the  end  of  six  months,  she  had  not 
changed  her  mind. 

With  the  advent  of  the  first  cold  weather, 
Varvara  Pavlovna,  despite  her  promise  to  shut 
herself  up  in  the  depths  of  the  country,  after  pro- 
viding herself  with  money,  removed  to  Peters- 
burg, where  she  hired  a  modest  but  pretty  apart- 
ment, which  had  been  found  for  her  by  Panshin, 
who  had  quitted  the  Government  of  O  *  *  *  be- 
fore her.  During  the  latter  part  of  his  sojourn  in 
O  *  *  *  he  had  completely  fallen  out  of  favour 
with  Mar ya  Dmitrievna ;  he  had  suddenly  ceased 
to  call  upon  her  and  hardly  ever  quitted  Lavriki. 
Varvara  Pavlovna  had  enslaved  him,  precisely 

293 


A  XOBLEMAX'S  XEST 

that, — enslaved  him;  no  other  word  will  express 
her  unlimited,  irrevocable,  irresponsible  power 
over  him. 

Lavretzky  passed  the  winter  in  Moscow,  but 
in  the  spring  of  the  following  year  the  news 
reached  him  that  Liza  had  entered  the  B  *  *  * 
convent,  in  one  of  the  most  remote  corners  of 
Russia. 


294 


EPILOGUE 

EIGHT  years  have  passed.  Spring  has  come 
again.  .  .  But  first,  let  us  say  a  few  words 
about  the  fate  of  Mikhalevitch,  Panshin,  Mme. 
Lavretzky — and  take  our  leave  of  them.  Mi- 
khaleviteh, after  long  peregrinations,  has  finally 
hit  upon  his  real  vocation:  he  has  obtained  the 
post  of  head  inspector  in  a  government  insti- 
tution. He  is  very  well  satisfied  with  his  lot,  and 
his  pupils  "  adore '  him,  although  they  mimic 
him.  Panshin  has  advanced  greatly  in  rank,  and 
already  has  a  directorship  in  view ;  he  walks  with 
his  back  somewhat  bent:  it  must  be  the  cross  of 
the  Order  of  Vladimir,  which  has  been  conferred 
upon  him,  that  drags  him  forward.  The  official 
in  him  has,  decidedly,  carried  the  day  over  the 
artist;  his  still  youthful  face  has  turned  quite 
yellow,  his  hair  has  grown  thin,  and  he  no  longer 
sings  or  draws,  but  secretly  occupies  himself 
with  literature :  he  has  written  a  little  comedy,  in 
the  nature  of  "  a  proverb," — and,  as  every  one 
who  writes  nowadays  "  shows  up  "  some  one  or 
something,  he  has  shown  up  in  it  a  coquette,  and 
he  reads  it  surreptitiously  to  two  or  three  ladies 
who  are  favourably  disposed  toward  him.     But 

295 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

he  has  not  married,  although  many  fine  oppor- 
tunities of  so  doing  have  presented  themselves: 
for  this  Varvara  Pavlovna  is  responsible.  As 
for  her,  she  lives  uninterruptedly  in  Paris,  as  of 
yore :  Feodor  Ivanitch  has  given  her  a  bill  of  ex- 
change on  himself,  and  bought  himself  free 
from  her, — from  the  possibility  of  a  second,  un- 
expected invasion.  She  has  grown  old  and  fat, 
but  it  is  still  pretty  and  elegant.  Every  person 
has  his  own  ideal:  Varvara  Pavlovna  has  found 
hers — in  the  dramatic  productions  of  Dumas 
fils.  She  assiduously  frequents  the  theatre  where 
consumptive  and  sentimental  ladies  of  the  frail 
class  are  put  on  the  stage;  to  be  Mme.  Doche 
seems  to  her  the  very  apex  of  human  felicity ;  one 
day,  she  declared  that  she  desired  no  better  lot  for 
her  daughter.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  fate  will 
deliver  Mademoiselle  Ada  from  such  felicity: 
from  a  rosy,  plump  child,  she  has  turned  into  a 
weak-chested,  pale-faced  young  girl;  her  nerves 
are  already  deranged.  The  number  of  Varvara 
Pavlovna's  admirers  has  decreased ;  but  they  have 
not  transferred  their  allegiance:  she  will,  in  all 
probability,  retain  several  of  them  to  the  end  of 
her  life.  The  most  ardent  of  them,  of  late,  has 
been  a  certain  Zakurdalo-Skubyrnikoff,  one  of 
the  retired  dandies  of  the  Guards,  a  man  of  eight 
and  thirty,  of  remarkably  robust  build.  The 
Frenchmen  who  frequent  Mme.  Lavretzky's 
salon  call  him  "  le  gros  taureau  de  V  Ukraine  "  ; 

296 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

Varvara  Pavlovna  never  invites  him  to  her  fash- 
ionable evening  gatherings,  but  he  enjoys  her 
favour  in  the  fullest  measure. 

So  ...  .  eight  years  have  passed.  Again  the 
sky  is  breathing  forth  the  beaming  happiness  of 
spring;  again  it  is  smiling  upon  the  earth  and 
upon  men;  again,  beneath  its  caress,  everything 
has  burst  into  blossom,  into  love  and  song.  The 
town  of  O  *  *  *  has  undergone  very  little  change 
in  the  course  of  those  eight  years;  but  Marya 
Dmitrievna's  house  seems  to  have  grown  young: 
its  recently  painted  walls  shine  as  in  welcome, 
and  the  panes  of  the  open  windows  are  crim- 
soning and  glittering  in  the  rays  of  the  setting 
sun.  Through  these  windows,  out  upon  the 
street,  are  wafted  the  sounds  of  ringing  young 
voices,  of  incessant  laughter;  the  whole  house 
seems  bubbling  with  life,  and  overflowing  the 
brim  with  merriment.  The  mistress  of  the  house 
herself  has  long  since  gone  to  her  grave:  Marya 
Dmitrievna  died  two  years  after  Liza's  profes- 
sion as  a  nun;  and  Marfa  Timofeevna  did  not 
long  survive  her  neice;  they  rest  side  by  side 
in  the  town  cemetery.  Nastasya  Karpovna,  also, 
is  dead;  the  faithful  old  woman  went,  every 
week,  for  the  space  of  several  years,  to  pray  over 
the  ashes  of  her  friend.  .  .  Her  time  came,  and 
her  bones  also  were  laid  in  the  damp  earth.  But 
Marya  Dmitrievna's  house  has  not  passed  into 
the  hands  of  strangers,  has  not  left  her  family ;  the 

297 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

nest  has  not  been  destroyed:  Lyenotchka,who  has 
become  a  stately,  beautiful  young  girl,  and  her 
betrothed,  a  fair-haired  officer  of  hussars;  Ma- 
rya  Dmitrievna's  son,  who  has  just  been  married 
in  Petersburg,  and  has  come  with  his  young  wife 
to  spend  the  spring  in  O  *  *  *  ;  his  wife's  sister,  an 
Institute-girl  of  sixteen,  with  brilliantly  scarlet 
cheeks  and  clear  eyes;  Schurotchka,  who  has  also 
grown  up  and  become  pretty — these  are  the 
young  folks  who  are  making  the  walls  of  the 
Kalitin  house  re-echo  with  laughter  and  chatter. 
Everything  about  it  has  been  changed,  everything 
has  been  brought  into  accord  with  the  new  in- 
habitants. Beardless  young  house-servants,  who 
grin  and  jest,  have  taken  the  places  of  the  former 
sedate  old  servitors ;  where  overgrown  Roska  was 
wont  to  stroll,  two  setters  are  chasing  madly 
about,  and  leaping  over  the  divans ;  the  stable  has 
been  filled  with  clean-limbed  amblers,  high- 
spirited  shaft-horses,  fiery  trace-horses 1  with 
braided  manes,  and  riding-horses  from  the  Don; 
the  hours  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper  have 
become  mixed  up  and  confused ;  according  to  the 
expression  of  the  neighbours,  "  an  unprecedented 
state  of  affairs  "  has  been  established. 

On  the  evening  of  which  we  are  speaking,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Kalitin  house  (the  oldest  of 
them,  Lyenotchka's  betrothed,  was  only  four  and 

*The  trotter  as  shaft-horse,  and  the  galloping  side-horses 
of  a  troika. — Translator. 

298 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

twenty)  were  engaged  in  a  far  from  complicated, 
but,  judging  from  their  vigorous  laughter,  a 
very  amusing  game:  they  were  running  through 
the  rooms,  and  catching  each  other ;  the  dogs,  also, 
were  running  and  barking,  and  the  canaries  which 
hung  in  cages  in  front  of  the  windows  vied  with 
each  other  in  singing  at  the  tops  of  their  voices, 
increasing  the  uproar  of  ringing  volleys  of 
noise  with  their  furious  chirping.  While  this 
deafening  diversion  was  at  its  very  height,  a 
mud-stained  tarantas  drove  up  to  the  gate,  and 
a  man  of  forty-five,  clad  in  travelling  garb,  de- 
scended from  it,  and  stopped  short  in  amazement. 
He  stood  motionless  for  some  time,  swept  an  at- 
tentive glance  over  the  house,  passed  through  the 
gate  into  the  yard,  and  slowly  ascended  the  steps. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  anteroom  to  receive  him ; 
but  the  door  of  the  'hall"  flew  wide  open; 
through  it,  all  flushed,  bounced  Schurotchka,  and 
instantly,  in  pursuit  of  her,  with  ringing  laughter, 
rushed  the  whole  youthful  band.  She  came  to  a 
sudden  halt  and  fell  silent  at  the  sight  of  the 
stranger;  but  the  clear  eyes  fastened  upon  him 
were  as  caressing  as  ever,  the  fresh  faces  did  not 
cease  to  smile.  Marya  Dmitrievna's  son  stepped 
up  to  the  visitor,  and  courteously  asked  him  what 
he  wished. 

"  I  am  Lavretzky," — said  the  visitor. 

A  vigorous  shout  rang  out  in  response — and 
not  because  all  these  young  people  were  so  ex- 

290 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

tremely  delighted  at  the  arrival  of  the  distant,  al- 
most forgotten  relative,  but  simply  because  they 
were  ready  to  make  an  uproar  and  rejoice  on 
every  convenient  opportunity.  They  immediately 
surrounded  Lavretzky:  Lyenotchka,  in  the  qual- 
ity of  an  old  acquaintance,  was  the  first  to  intro- 
duce herself,  and  to  assure  him  that,  in  another 
moment,  she  certainly  would  have  recognised 
him,  and  then  she  presented  all  the  rest  of  the 
company,  calling  each  one  of  them,  including  her 
betrothed,  by  his  pet  name.  The  whole  throng 
moved  through  the  dining-room  to  the  drawing- 
room.  The  hangings  in  both  rooms  were  differ- 
ent, but  the  furniture  remained  the  same; 
Lavretzky  recognised  the  piano;  even  the  same 
embroidery-frame  was  standing  in  the  window, 
in  the  same  position — and  almost  with  the  same 
unfinished  bit  of  embroidery  as  eight  years  pre- 
viously. They  made  him  sit  down  in  a  comfort- 
able easy-chair;  all  seated  themselves  decorously 
around  him.  Questions,  exclamations,  stories 
showered  down  without  cessation. 

"  But  it  is  a  long  time  since  we  have  seen  you," 
— remarked  Lyenotchka,  ingenuously: — "and 
we  have  not  seen  Varvara  Pavlovna  either." 

"  I  should  think  so!  " — interposed  her  brother, 
hurriedly.  "  I  carried  thee  off  to  Petersburg, 
but  Feodor  Ivanitch  lived  in  the  country  all  the 
time." 

"  Yes,  and  mamma  has  died  since,  you  know." 

300 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  And  Marfa  Timofeevna," — said  Schu- 
rotchka. 

"  And  Nastasya  Karpovna," — rejoined  Lye- 
notchka. — "  And  M'sieu  Lemm " 

"  What?  And  is  Lemm  dead  also?  " — asked 
Lavretzky. 

"Yes," — replied  young  Kalitin: — "he  went 
away  from  here  to  Odessa — they  say  that  some 
one  decoyed  him  thither;  and  there  he  died." 

:  You  do  not  know — whether  he  left  any  music 
behind  him?  " 

"  I  don't  know, — it  is  hardly  probable." 

All  fell  silent,  and  exchanged  glances.  A 
cloud  of  sadness  had  descended  upon  all  the 
young  faces. 

'  And  Matroska  is  alive," — suddenly  remarked 
Lyenotchka. 

'  And  Gedeonovsky  is  alive," — added  her 
brother. 

At  the  name  of  Gedeonovsky  a  vigorous  peal 
of  laughter  rang  out  in  unison. 

"  Yes,  he  is  alive,  and  lies  just  as  he  always 
did," — went  on  Marya  Dmftrievna's  son: — 
'  and  just  imagine,  that  naughty  child  there ' 
(and  he  pointed  at  his  wife's  sister,  the  In- 
stitute-girl) "  put  pepper  in  his  snuff-box  yes- 
terday." 

'  How  he  did  sneeze!  "  exclaimed  Lyenotchka: 
— and  again  a  peal  of  irrepressible  laughter  rang 
out. 

301 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

"  We  received  news  of  Liza  recently," — said 
young  Kalitin, — and  again  everything  grew  still 
round  about: — "things  are  well  with  her, — her 
health  is  now  improving  somewhat." 

"  Is  she  still  in  the  same  convent?  " — asked 
Lavretzky,  not  without  an  effort. 

"  Yes,  still  in  the  same  place." 

"  Does  she  write  to  you?  " 

"  No,  never;  the  news  reaches  us  through  other 
people." — A  sudden,  profound  silence  ensued. 
"  The  angel  of  silence  has  flown  past,"  all  said  to 
themselves. 

"  Would  not  you  like  to  go  into  the  garden? ' 
— Kalitin    turned   to    Lavretzky: — "it    is    very 
pretty  now,  although  we  have  rather  neglected  it." 

Lavretzky  went  out  into  the  garden,  and  the 
first  thing  that  struck  his  eyes  was  the  bench 
on  which  he  had  once  spent  with  Liza  a  few 
happy  moments,  never  to  be  repeated;  it  had 
grown  black  and  crooked;  but  he  recognised  it, 
and  his  soul  was  seized  by  that  feeling  which  has 
no  peer  in  sweetness  and  in  sorrow, — the  feeling 
of  living  grief  for  vanished  youth,  for  happiness 
which  it  once  possessed.  In  company  with  the 
young  people,  he  strolled  through  the  alleys :  the 
linden-trees  had  not  grown  much  older  and  taller 
during  the  last  eight  years,  but  their  shade  had 
become  more  dense;  on  the  other  hand,  all  the 
shrubs  had  sprung  upward,  the  raspberry -bushes 
had  waxed  strong,  the  hazel  copse  had  become 

302 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

entirely  impenetrable,  and  everywhere  there  was 
an  odour  of  thickets,  forest,  grass,  and  lilacs. 

'  What  a  good  place  this  would  be  to  play 
at  puss-in-the-corner," — suddenly  cried  Lye- 
notchka,  as  they  entered  a  small,  verdant  glade, 
hemmed  in  by  lindens: — "  by  the  way,  there  are 
five  of  us." 

"  And  hast  thou  forgotten  Feodor  Ivanitch? ' 
— her  brother  observed  to  her.  .  .  "Or  art  thou 
not  reckoning  in  thyself?  " 

Lyenotchka  blushed  faintly. 

'  But  is  it  possible  that  Feodor  Ivanitch,  at 
his  age,  can  .  .  ." — she  began. 

'  Please  play," — interposed  Lavretzky,  has- 
tily:— "pay  no  heed  to  me.  It  will  be  all  the 
more  agreeable  to  me  if  I  know  that  I  am  not  em- 
barrassing you.  And  there  is  no  need  for  you  to 
bother  about  me ;  we  old  fellows  have  occupations 
of  which  you,  as  yet,  know  nothing,  and  which  no 
diversion  can  replace:  memories." 

The  young  people  listened  to  Lavretzky  with 
courteous  and  almost  mocking  respect, — exactly 
as  though  their  teacher  were  reading  them  a  les- 
son,— and  suddenly  all  of  them  flew  away  from 
him,  and  ran  over  the  glade;  four  of  them  took 
up  their  stand  near  the  trees,  one  stood  in  the 
centre, — and  the  fun  began. 

But  Lavretzky  returned  to  the  house,  went  into 
the  dining-room,  approached  the  piano,  and 
touched  one  of  the  keys:  a  faint,  but  pure  sound 

303 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

rang  out,  and  secretly  trembled  in  his  heart :  with 
that  note  began  that  inspired  melody  wherewith, 
long  ago,  on  that  same  blissful  night,  Lemm,  the 
dead  Lemm,  had  led  him  to  such  raptures.  Then 
Lavretzky  passed  into  the  drawing-room,  and  did 
not  emerge  from  it  for  a  long  time :  in  that  room, 
where  he  had  so  often  seen  Liza,  her  image  rose 
up  before  him  more  vividly  than  ever;  it  seemed 
to  him,  that  he  felt  around  him  the  traces  of  her 
presence;  but  his  grief  for  her  was  exhausting 
and  not  light:  there  was  in  it  none  of  the  tran- 
quillity which  death  inspires.  Liza  was  still  liv- 
ing somewhere,  dully,  far  away;  he  thought  of 
her  as  among  the  living,  but  did  not  recognise  the 
young  girl  whom  he  had  once  loved  in  that  pale 
spectre  swathed  in  the  conventual  garment,  sur- 
rounded by  smoky  clouds  of  incense.  Lavretzky 
would  not  have  recognised  himself,  had  he  been 
able  to  contemplate  himself  as  he  mentally  con- 
templated Liza.  In  the  course  of  those  eight 
years  the  crisis  had,  at  last,  been  effected  in  his 
life ;  that  crisis  which  many  do  not  experience,  but 
without  which  it  is  not  possible  to  remain  an  hon- 
ourable man  to  the  end:  he  had  really  ceased  to 
think  of  his  own  happiness,  of  selfish  aims.  He 
had  calmed  down,  and — why  should  the  truth  be 
concealed? — he  had  aged,  not  alone  in  face  and 
body,  he  had  aged  in  soul;  to  preserve  the  heart 
youthful  to  old  age,  as  some  say,  is  difficult,  and 
almost  absurd:  he  may  feel  content  who  has  not 

304. 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

lost  faith  in  good,  steadfastness  of  will,  desire  for 
activity.  .  .  .  Lavretzky  had  a  right  to  feel  satis- 
fied :  he  had  become  a  really  fine  agriculturist,  he 
had  really  learned  to  till  the  soil,  and  he  had 
toiled  not  for  himself  alone;  in  so  far  as  he 
had  been  able,  he  had  freed  from  care  and  estab- 
lished on  a  firm  foundation  the  existence  of  his 
serfs. 

Lavretzky  emerged  from  the  house  into  the 
garden:  he  seated  himself  on  the  familiar  bench 
— and  in  that  dear  spot,  in  the  face  of  the  house, 
where  he  had,  on  the  last  occasion,  stretched  out 
his  hands  in  vain  to  the  fatal  cup  in  which  seethes 
and  sparkles  the  wine  of  delight, — he,  a  solitary, 
homeless  wanderer, — to  the  sounds  of  the  merry 
cries  of  the  younger  generation  which  had  already 
superseded  him, — took  a  survey  of  his  life.  His 
heart  was  sad,  but  not  heavy  and  not  very  sor- 
rowful: he  had  nothing  which  he  had  need  to 
regret  or  be  ashamed  of.  "  Play  on,  make  merry, 
grow  on,  young  forces," — he  thought,  and  there 
was  no  bitterness  in  his  meditations : — "  life  lies 
before  you,  and  it  will  be  easier  for  you  to  live: 
you  will  not  be  compelled,  as  we  have  been,  to 
seek  your  road,  to  struggle,  to  fall,  and  to  rise 
to  your  feet  again  amid  the  gloom ;  we  have  given 
ourselves  great  trouble,  that  we  might  remain 
whole, — and  how  many  of  us  have  failed  in  that ! 
— but  you  must  do  deeds,  work, — and  the  blessing 
of  old  fellows  like  me  be  upon  you.    But  all  that 

305 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

remains  for  me,  after  to-day,  after  these  emo- 
tions, is  to  make  my  final  reverence  to  you,  and, 
although  with  sadness,  yet  without  envy,  without 
any  dark  feelings,  to  say,  in  view  of  the  end,  in 
view  of  God  who  is  awaiting  me :  '  Long  live 
solitary  old  age!  Burn  thyself  out,  useless 
life!'" 

Lavretzky  rose  softly,  and  softly  went  away; 
no  one  noticed  him,  no  one  detained  him;  the 
merry  cries  resounded  more  loudly  than  ever  in 
the  garden  behind  the  green,  dense  wall  of  lofty 
lindens.  He  seated  himself  in  his  tarantas,  and 
ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  home,  and  not  to 
press  the  horses  hard. 

"And  the  end?"  perchance  some  dissatisfied 
reader  will  say.  "  And  what  became  of  Lavret- 
zky? of  Liza?"  But  what  can  one  say  about 
people  who  are  still  alive,  but  who  have  already 
departed  from  the  earthly  arena, — why  revert 
to  them?  They  say  that  Lavretzky  paid  a  visit 
to  that  distant  convent  where  Liza  had  hidden 
herself — and  saw  her.  In  going  from  one  choir 
to  the  other,  she  passed  close  to  him — passed  with 
the  even,  hurriedly-submissive  gait  of  a  nun — 
and  did  not  cast  a  glance  at  him ;  only  the  lashes 
of  the  eye  which  was  turned  toward  him  trembled 
almost  imperceptibly,  and  her  haggard  face  was 
bowed  a  little  lower  than  usual — and  the  fingers 
of  her  clasped  hands,  interlaced  with  her  rosary, 

306 


A  NOBLEMAN'S  NEST 

were  pressed  more  tightly  to  one  another.  What 
did  they  both  think, — what  did  they  both  feel? 
Who  knows?  Who  shall  say?  There  are  mo- 
ments in  life,  there  are  feelings  ...  we  can  only 
indicate  them, — and  pass  by. 


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